THE 
PROMISED  ISLE 


VAN    ZANTEN'S 
HAPPY   DAYS 

Laurids      Bru  un 


by 


"A  beautiful  story  and  quite  the  best  of  the 
South  Sea  tales  which  we  know." 

— HBYWOOD  BROUN  in  Tht  Niw  York  World 

"Here  is  the  South  Sea  satire  done  to  a  turn. 
Beside  it  'The  Cruise  of  the  Kawa'  is  but  fair 
burlesque  ...  An  authentic  South  Sea  atmos- 
phere which  the  foolery  makes  even  more  inter- 
esting;. We  consider  it  the  best  of  the  South  Sea 
books." 

— JOHN  V.  A.  WEAVER  in  Tht  BnMjn  Eaglt 


$2.00  ntt  at  all  bookstores  or  from 

ALFRED  •  A  •  KNOPF 

PUBLISHER  NEW  TORt 


THE 
PROMISED    ISLE 


NEW  YORK 

ALFRED  •  A  •  KNOPF 
1922 


COPYRIGHT,  1922,  BY 
ALFRED  A.  KNOPF,  INC. 

Published,  July,  1922 


[Original  Title:  Den  forjoettede 


Set  up,  electrotvped,  and  printed  t>v  the  Vail-Ballou  Co.,  Binghamton,  If.  Y. 

Paper  furnished  ly  W.  F.  Etherinoton  &  Co.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Bound  on  the  H.  Wolff  Estate,  New  York,  N.  Y. 


MANUFACTURED     IN    THE     UNITED    STATES    OF    AMERICA 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTION  9 

I.  DANIEL  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  13 

II.  THE  GREAT  BEAST  23 

III.  WITH  THE  SHIP-OWNER'S  MONEY          32 

IV.  THE  PROMISED  ISLE  41 
V.  THE  SUN  BRETHREN  49 

VI.  TOWARDS  THE  UNKNOWN  56 

VII.  JAKOB  BEER  65 

VIII.  HENDRIK  KOORT  70 

IX.  DANIEL  HOOCH  78 

X.  PIETER  GOY  85 

XI.  THE  FIRST  MEETING  94 

XII.  A  BEAUTIFUL  ISLAND  102 

XIII.  THE  MEAT  EATERS  no 

XIV.  ROBBERS  IN  THE  WOOD  118 
XV.  ROUND  THE  WATCH-FIRB  124 

XVI.  "NATURE"  133 

XVII.  THE  GLANCE  OF  SOLITUDE  141 

XVIII.  A  COSY  HOME  147 

XIX.  GENIUS  157 


2071851 


INTRODUCTION 

THIS,  the  second  book  of  Van  Zanten  is, 
like  the  first,  composed  piecemeal. 
There  is  no  definite  dating  attached  to 
the  various  parts,  but,  as  far  as  one  can  judge 
from  the  diaries,  the  author  worked  at  the  subject- 
matter  at  all  events  during  the  years  1877,  1879, 
and  1880. 

On  one  page  of  the  journal,  dated  "Batavia, 
March  1877"  (at  the  end  of  the  author's 
"aesthetic  period,"  vide  introduction  to  Van 
Zanten's  Happy  Days),  there  is  written: 
"Worked  at  Daniel."  A  loose  page-fragment, 
dated  "Buka,  September,"  but  lacking  the  year,1 
contains:  "This  would  do  for  Pieter  Goy!"  Fi- 
nally there  is  a  reference  to  the  autumn  of  1880, 
when  Van  Zanten  had  again  returned  to  Batavia, 
touched  in  the  following  terms:  "Read  and  col- 
lected the  old  and  the  new  about  Daniel  and  his 
friends.  Shall  the  child  be  called  'The  Lions' 
Den'  or  The  Island'  ?" 

I  gather,  from  internal  evidence,  that  Chap- 
ters I— VI  were  written  in  one  burst.  In  the  suc- 
ceeding chapters,  presumably  originating  from 
1879,  the  speed  slackened,  the  tone  is  less  assured. 
It  is  my  belief  that  Van  Zanten's  longing  for 

1  Probably  from  1879,  in  which  year  Van  Zanten  acted  as 
depot-chief  on  the  Solomon  Islands,  of  which  Buka  Island 
is  one  of  the  largest. 

9 


10 INTRODUCTION 

the  Islands,  now  that  he  again  found  himself  in  a 
big,  modern  town,  made  it  difficult  for  him  to 
maintain  the  ironical  undertone  with  which  the 
book  started.  He  is  himself  once  more  fascin- 
ated by  the  dream  of  happiness  which  animates  his 
characters — the  same  dream  of  which  Fan  Zan- 
ten's  Happy  Days  is  the  child  and  to  which  he  had 
intended  this  second  book  to  form  the  contrast. 

It  makes  one  smile  to  see  how  even  such  a  prim- 
itively unorthodox  personality  as  Van  Zanten  has 
been  subjugated  by  the  law  so  often  dominant  in 
the  annals  of  historical  literature,  that  a  compre- 
hensive artistic  talent  has  a  lawyerlike  tendency 
to  move  its  way  forward  between  opposing  points 
of  view. 

The  Island,  which  in  Fan  Zanten's  Happy 
Days  was  his  promised  land,  he  now  turns  against 
ironically,  and  seeks,  with  a  smile,  to  free  him- 
self from  its  fascination.  In  this,  too,  he  has 
succeeded— until  Chapters  XV-XVIII.  There 
it  is  as  if  the  smile  grows  strained,  as  if  the  irony 
were  about  to  strike  back.  In  this  vacillation, 
this  hesitation,  I  see  a  natural  and  sufficient  ex- 
planation of  the  work  being  again  interrupted. 
It  is  only  after  the  author  had  once  more  departed 
from  and — in  1880 — again  returned  to  civiliza- 
tion, that  he  regains  that  superiority  which  was 
necessary  for  the  completion  of  his  work,  the  li- 
beration of  his  artistic  ego. 

Those  who  remembered  the  Introduction  to 
the  first  published  Van  Zanten  book  know  that 


THE  PROMISED  ISLE  n 

the  liberation  was  only  artistic.     In  life  he  re- 
tained the  longing  to  his  last  hour. 

Some  textual  alterations  have  been  made  by 
the  editor,  for  the  purpose  of  smoothing  the 
passages  between  the  fragments,  in  addition  to 
which  a  few  unmistakable  inaccuracies,  due  ob- 
viously to  details  of  the  story  having  become  for- 
gotten during  the  gaps  in  the  composition,  have 
been  corrected  and  brought  into  mutual  harmony. 

Both  the  title,  The  Promised  Isle,  as  well  as 
several  of  the  chapter  headings,  are  due  to  the 
editor.  The  MS.  contains  chapters  with  head- 
ings, and  chapters  without,  side  by  side  promis- 
cuously. 

In  presenting  the  second  of  the  Van  Zanten 
MSS.  to  the  Danish-reading  public,  I  shall,  in  an- 
swer to  many  both  publicly  and  privately  ex- 
pressed doubts,  make  this — in  my  opinion,  super- 
fluous— additional  remark:  that  Van  Zanten  is 
not  identical  with  Laurids  Bruun. 

Would  that  he  were! 

LAURIDS  BRUUN. 

COPENHAGEN,  March,  1910 


I  :    DANIEL   AND   HIS 
FRIENDS 

PIETER  GOY  was  sweeping  the  floor  of  the 
"Lions'  Den,"  the  back  room  of  the  cafe, 
which  was  reserved  every  evening  from 
nine  to  ten  for  Daniel  Hooch,  the  author,  and  his 
friends. 

There  was  to  be  a  feast. 

Daniel  had  called  in  before  noon  and  given 
orders  for  three  lobsters  in  mayonnaise,  three 
bottles  of  Chablis,  a  flask  of  Geneva  rum  for  the 
painter,  and  some  good  platefuls  of  cold  meat. 
In  addition,  a  head  of  cauliflower  au  naturel  for 
Jakob  Beer,  who,  from  conviction  and  a  bad 
digestion,  was  a  vegetarian. 

Daniel  had  ostentatiously  requested  the  buffet 
matron,  who  had  instructions  to  refuse  doubtful 
orders,  to  change  a  note  of  medium  size,  and 
bribed  the  triumvirate's  private  waiter  with  a 
small  payment  on  account  of  the  sum  owing  him; 
and  all  was  arranged. 

The  matter  was  as  follows :  that  Daniel  several 
months  previously  had  had  his  play,  Nature's 
Bosom,  accepted  for  production  at  a  provincial 
theatre,  which  was  of  course  far  beneath  the  dig- 
nity of  the  piece. 

Tonight  was  the  first-night  performance. 
13 


14  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

The  better-class,  conservative  newspapers  had, 
following  their  usual  custom,  maintained  an  ob- 
durate silence.  But  in  the  radical  yellow  Press 
Daniel  had  an  admiring  following  of  young,  as 
yet  unrecognized  talent,  who  had  promised  to 
appear  in  a  body  and  make  things  go. 

For  Daniel  was  also  a  literary  critic,  and  used 
his  pen  like  a  dagger. 

The  author  himself  and  his  two  most  intimate 
friends — Jakob  Beer,  who  eked  out  a  liv- 
ing as  organist  in  a  church  for  the  blind,  and  the 
artist,  Hendrik  Koort,  who  gave  drawing  lessons 
at  a  girls'  school — were  to  absent  themselves 
from  the  performance  from  motives  of  self-re- 
spect. 

The  reason  Daniel  had  allowed  his  piece  to  be 
murdered  at  "Thieves'  Kitchen,"  as  the  little 
theatre  was  popularly  nicknamed,  was  due  only 
to  stern  necessity.  The  trio  had  one  and  all  over- 
stepped the  limits  of  human  credit  for  board  and 
lodging,  in  addition  to  which  the  owner  of  the 
Lions'  Den  had  made  up  their  accounts  and  re- 
fused to  serve  them  further  except  for  cash  on  the 
nail;  whereupon  Pieter  Goy  also,  their  own  pet 
waiter,  had  summoned  up  courage  and,  fighting 
down  the  claims  of  sympathy  until  his  soul 
sweated,  had,  with  a  stern  glance,  asked  Daniel  to 
think  of  him. 

"I  am  always  thinking  of  you!"  Daniel  had 
said,  and  patted  the  other's  greasy  coat.  But 
money  there  had  been  no  sign  of — except  now, 


DANIEL  AND  HIS  FRIENDS         15 

today,  a  gold  ten-guilder  and  a  little  silver. 
Daniel  had  that  morning  been  out  to  the  thea- 
tre and  received  that  balance  due  to  him  for  the 
first-night  performance.  Every  seat  was  already 
sold;  and  the  actors,  who  were  gathered  together 
for  a  final  little  extra  rehearsal,  had  greeted  him 
with  great  respect.  The  triumvirate  were  noti- 
fied of  the  coming  feast,  wherewith  Daniel  en- 
deavoured to  stifle  his  remorse  at  having  sold  his 
literary  conscience  for  a  long  series  of  perform- 
ances— at  the  Thieves'  Kitchen. 

Daniel  was  a  young  man,  who  carried  his  head 
like  a  demi-god.  His  brown  eyes  always  looked 
up  over  the  hair  of  the  person  with  whom  he 
talked.  When  he  became  excited,  they  grew 
shining  and  hard,  while  his  lips  tightened  mock- 
ingly. His  head  would  go  still  farther  up  and  his 
fingers  run  restlessly  through  his  dark,  thin  hair. 

He  had  from  his  earliest  youth  lived  at  war 
with  Society.  His  dream  was  a  free  natural  life 
under  lofty  skies  and  haughty  tree-tops — under 
an  eternal  sun  where  there  was  no  difference  be- 
tween good  and  evil. 

He  had  experienced  an  unhappy  boyhood  and 
could  not  forget  it.  Life  had  always  disturbed 
his  dreams.  Constantly  he  had  to  crush  them 
down  within  him.  There  they  became  so  heaped 
up  that  now  and  again  the  pressure  burst  open 
the  safety  valve.  Then  one  of  his  fits  would 
occur,  in  which  he  would  fling  himself  against  the 


16  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

walls  of  his  cage,  cut  the  few  geography  and 
French  lessons  secured  for  him  through  the  good- 
will of  an  old  school  comrade,  and  rush  out  to  the 
woods,  where,  for  a  day  or  two,  he  would  live 
the  life  of  a  complete  child  of  nature. 

Out  there  he  wandered  about  with  his  gaze  in- 
toxicatedly  seeking  the  tree-tops,  hatless,  with 
flung-open  shirt. 

Whilst  the  lyric  mood  poured  from  him,  he 
felt  himself  as  if  called  to  create  by  his  example 
a  new  mankind — without  society,  without  duty, 
without  morale. 

Hunger  called  him  back;  exhausted  and  chilly 
he  would  return  to  his  attic.  Thus  had  his  mind 
secured  peace  for  a  while.  He  became  indus- 
trious, shut  himself  in,  sat  with  his  head  between 
his  hands,  staring  at  the  white  paper,  until  at 
last  the  devil  entered  into  him  and  produced  one 
of  his  ill-natured,  witty  stories,  through  which  he 
revenged  himself  on  the  world,  and  which  made 
his  name  esteemed  among  the  very  young,  who 
alone  have  the  power  to  love  or  hate  without  re- 
serve. 

He  himself  felt  the  most  utter  contempt  for 
this  forced  labour.  He  wrote  with  set  teeth,  and 
swore  to  himself  that  as  soon  as  he  had  filled  the 
mouth  of  the  Great  Beast — this  was  the  public — 
he  would  put  his  soul's  conviction  into  verse  in  a 
work  of  eternal  brilliance,  which  should  blast 
Society  and  annihilate  himself  as  its  first  victim. 

So  far  had  he  now  progressed  that  in  Nature's 


DANIEL  AND  HIS  FRIENDS         17 

Bosom  he  had  managed  for  the  first  time  to 
smuggle  in  something  of  his  own  personality. 
He  had  sugared  the  explosive  in  small,  smooth 
pills.  But  not  one  of  the  literary  theatres  had 
understood  his  superb  creation.  Thus  it  was  that 
stern  necessity  had  forced  him  down  to  the  level 
of  Thieves'  Kitchen. 

Daniel  met  Jakob  at  the  door  of  the  cafe.  The 
musician  was  little  and  deformed.  On  his  thin, 
unwashed  face  sat  a  smile,  nailed  fast  over  the 
discoloured  tooth-stumps.  Whenever  he  entered 
a  room  his  long,  pointed  nose  rose  in  the  air  like 
an  enormous  feeler  sensing  whether  there  was 
room  for  him.  One  was  inclined  to  forget  his 
presence;  whenever  he  began  to  speak  it  rather 
gave  an  impression  as  if  he  had  suddenly  popped 
out  of  a  corner. 

He  had,  in  spite  of  being  only  twenty-seven, 
already  streaks  of  grey  in  his  long  artistic  hair, 
which — when  he  waxed  ecstatic — straggled  down 
over  his  shaggy,  grown-together  eyebrows,  so 
that  he  had  to  toss  his  head  to  fling  it  back. 

His  was  a  non-obtrusive  genius,  which,  like 
the  violet,  hid  itself  shyly  under  the  common  herb- 
age. The  best  part  of  his  ego  moved  constantly 
in  a  kingdom  of  melody  floating  high  above  every- 
day existence. 

As  he  stared  before  him  with  his  fixed  smile 
he  had  no  idea  of  what  was  being  said  around  him. 
But  suddenly  he  would  begin  to  talk — in  an  intox- 


i8  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

icated,  hushed  voice,  with  flowing  movements  of 
his  long,  musician's  hands,  which  as  it  were  played 
his  thoughts  in  octaves — about  something  or 
other  wonderful  he  had  heard  played  by  some 
famous  player  at  a  concert  to  which  he  had  been 
given  a  free  ticket. 

No  one  was  so  inexorable  in  his  criticism  as  he 
was.  When  his  musical  ideals  were  attacked,  his 
little  weasel  body  twisted  and  writhed  in  a  most 
weird  manner.  He  flamed  up  like  a  gas  jet  in  a 
draught,  while  his  shadow  swept  grotesque  and 
threatening  over  the  Lions'  Den's  dirty  yellow 
walls. 

Oft-times  the  waiter  stood  listening  with  won- 
dering eyes,  when  the  cripple,  as  he  called  him- 
self, became  suddenly  seized  by  the  spirit. 

The  scene  reminded  him  of  a  picture  in  an  old 
book  he  had  seen,  when  a  boy,  at  his  grandfather's 
house.  It  depicted  Doctor  Faustus  being 
tempted  by  the  devil  in  a  sinister  cloister-cell  with 
a  red  fire  and  a  long-horned  silhouette  on  the 
shadowy  walls. 

"Well,"  said  Jakob,  thrusting  his  narrow  hand 
in  Daniel's,  "how  goes  it?" 

"Dry  up !"  muttered  Daniel,  pushing  his  com- 
panion before  him  up  the  dark  back-staircase. 
When  hungry  he  was  quite  unapproachable. 

The  painter,  Hendrik  Koort,  came  drifting  in 
as  usual  when  the  others  were  already  seated  at 
the  table. 


DANIEL  AND  HIS  FRIENDS         19 

They  were  so  used  to  his  unpunctuality  that 
they  never  dreamt  of  waiting  for  him.  But  Hen- 
drik took  offence  regularly  each  time. 

He  was  short,  stubby,  and  wide-hipped.  His 
head  was  too  large;  in  addition,  abnormally  wide 
above  the  temples,  with  a  prominent  convex  fore- 
head which  looked  every  moment  as  if  it  were 
about  to  butt  like  a  goat.  The  nape  of  his  neck 
was  flat,  and  he  had  close-clipped  red  hair  which 
was  his  constant  source  of  pride.  As  in  the  case 
of  Daniel,  necessity  and  desire  alike  called  aloud 
in  him  for  Nature;  but  whereas  the  poet 
aspired  to  capture  and  subdue  her,  Hendrik 
dreamed  only  of  sinking  his  ego  in  her  holy  mys- 
teries. 

His  longing  was  for  the  untouched,  the  unde- 
filed.  He  would  paint  that  which  had  never  be- 
fore been  set  to  canvas;  that  which  the  French 
painters  had  imagined  but  not  achieved.  Nature, 
in  her  primitive  purity,  exposed  the  false  and  dis- 
appointing symbols  which  the  all-metamorphosing 
civilization  of  man  had  put  into  things,  rendering 
them  invisible  except  through  spectacles.  Into 
things  he  would  put  instead  the  naked  truth. 
Daniel  called  it  mockingly  the  red-headed  art. 

Hendrik  had  a  hard  fight  for  existence  with 
his  desire  for  comfort,  which  latter  was  in  keep- 
ing with  the  tendency  of  his  personality  to  dis- 
solve in  nature. 

When,  during  his  long  morning  walks,  he  found 
a  sufficiently  lonely  spot,  he  used  to  throw  off  the 


20  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

civilized  man  and  take  a  sun-bath  in  the  sweet- 
smelling  grass. 

Twice  he  had  been  reported  by  a  country  police- 
man, but  instinct  nevertheless  continued  to  de- 
mand its  right. 

He  himself  declared  that  when  thus  com- 
pletely nude,  he  had  in  flashes  been  able  to  see 
without  human  spectacles,  to  catch  glimpses  of 
things  in  their  primitive  state. 

Unfortunately  there  were  no  sketches  from 
these  moments.  But  when  the  evening  was  well 
advanced, — somewhere  about  the  third  glass  of 
rum, — he  would  begin  to  draw  the  lines  for  the 
others,  and  in  vague,  dreamy  terms  explain  to 
them  the  unique  tones  of  nature  into  which  the 
colours  had  formed  under  his  gaze.  He  would 
sit  staring  before  him  with  the  thick  lips 
parted  with  excitement  and  the  broad,  hairy 
hand  painting  out  into  the  air.  But  by  this 
time  there  were  seldom  any  listeners.  Jakob 
Beer  sat  apart  in  his  kingdom,  and  Daniel  ruled 
undisputed  in  his  own  world  of  dreams. 

His  enthusiasm  infected  neither  of  his  com- 
panions, and  his  glance  and  speech  were  directed 
unconsciously  towards  the  only  silent  one,  towards 
the  waiter's  faithful  blue  eyes,  which — fighting 
against  sleep — stared,  fascinated,  towards  them 
from  the  corner  by  the  stove  where  his  chair  was 
situated. 

It  had  happened  quite  without  premeditation 


DANIEL  AND  HIS  FRIENDS        21 

that  Pieter  Goy  thus  became  one  of  the  com- 
pany. 

Originally  it  had  probably  been  the  stove  which 
attracted  him;  for  it  was  always  beautifully  warm 
in  the  Lions'  Den. 

He  had  by  now  fallen  into  the  habit  of  sitting 
and  listening  to  the  many  strange  new  things. 
Each  evening  when  the  lights  were  put  out  in  the 
rooms  facing  the  street,  and  the  cafe  was  shut, 
and  the  Lions'  Den  became  the  refuge  of  a  pri- 
vate clique  with  which  the  policeman  did  not  con- 
cern himself,  Pieter  would  step  quietly  in  and  sit 
down  in  his  corner. 

As  time  passed  and  the  waiter  grew  more 
attached  to  Daniel  and  his  friends,  it  came  to  pass 
as  a  matter  of  course  that  he  contributed  his 
share  to  the  proceedings,  in  the  form  of  small 
monetary  favours. 

In  the  beginning  he  had  felt  honoured  when 
Daniel  patted  him  on  the  shoulder  and  asked  him 
for  a  guilder  or  two. 

Later  on  he  regarded  it  as  a  duty,  consequent 
on  his  being  allowed  to  remain  sitting  in  there. 
He  paid  his  entrance  fee,  and  had  a  right  to  wit- 
ness the  performance. 

Many  a  time  he  had  enjoyed  himself  hugely, 
especially  when  the  company  was  feeling  extra 
lively,  and  Daniel  was  engaged  in  pulling  the 
celebrities  of  the  day  down  from  their  pedestals. 
Pieter  Goy,  who  hailed  from  Groeningen,  would 


22  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

hold  his  sides  and  laugh  until  the  tears  glistened 
on  his  ruddy  cheeks. 

But  on  other  occasions,  when  the  fog  of  de- 
spondency hung  thick  over  the  Den,  and  each 
member  lifted  up  his  voice  and  bewailed  his  lot, 
then  his  heart  would  be  touched  and  he  would  suf- 
fer with  them,  sitting  with  folded  hands,  thinking 
of  the  shipwreck  of  his  own  private  happiness. 

A  farmer's  daughter  back  in  his  native  village 
had  jilted  him  for  a  counter-jumper  from  the 
town,  with  long,  flowing  tie  and  straw-coloured 
trousers. 


II:    THE   GREAT   BEAST 

**/"  •   "A  HIS  is  a  fine  thing,  I  must  say!" 

Hendrik  Koort  stood  in  the  door- 
JL       way,  and  looked  indignantly  at  Daniel 
and  Jakob,  who  were  gobbling  down  the  food  at 
full  speed. 

"Sit  down!"  invited  Daniel,  with  mouth  stuffed 
to  bursting  point. 

"Invite  a  man  to  supper,  and  then,  hang  me,  if 
the  host  has  not  eaten  the  lot  before  the  guests 
arrive!" 

"Rot!  You  always  turn  up  late.  Er — 
waiter,  give  him  the  lobster!" 

Pieter  Goy  reached  up  after  the  dish,  which  he 
had  thoughtfully  placed  on  top  of  the  cupboard 
so  that  Daniel  should  not  devour  Koort's  share. 

The  painter  squeezed  his  way  to  the  narrow 
seat  between  the  table  and  the  wall. 

The  waiter  served  him  the  splendid  red  crus- 
tacean, which  the  newcomer  greeted  with  a  series 
of  tongue  noises,  a  special  trick  of  his  which  no 
one  had  ever  been  successful  in  imitating.  Glasses 
were  filled,  and  a  busy  silence  ensued. 

A  little  later  Jakob  Beer  asked  him  about  his 
"Promised  Isle,"  but  received  no  answer. 

Daniel  thought  of  his  play,  which  at  that  very 
moment  was  being  slaughtered  in  the  Thieves' 

23 


24  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Kitchen.  With  a  heavy  sigh  he  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  Beer's  lobster.  The  musician  was  indeed 
a  vegetarian ;  but  lobster  he  could  not  altogether 
resist.  He  had  eaten  one  claw. 

Hendrik  Koort  guarded  his  food  interval  with 
rolling  eyes,  all  the  while  emitting  threatening 
rumbles  like  a  dog  gnawing  a  bone. 

When  the  worst  was  over  he  lifted  his  glass 
towards  Daniel,  and  said  solemnly: 

"Let  us  drink  to  Nature's  Bosom.  Here's  to 
its  feeding  us  for  a  long  series  of  evenings  with 
everything  that  is  good  and  pleasant  to  eat." 

Daniel  sat  up  and  became  serious.  "It's  all 
very  well,  Hendrik,  you  can  say  all  sorts  of 
things  against  the  Great  Beast;  but,  none  the  less, 
as  soon  as  you  suck  up  to  it,  it  gives  you  milk 
all  the  same." 

"And,  by  Jove,  you've  sucked  up  splendidly 
this  time." 

Daniel  lowered  his  head  remorsefully  over  his 
plate,  but  said  nothing. 

"When  I  think,"  began  Jakob  Beer,  as  with 
shining  eyes  he  flung  himself  upon  a  vegetable 
salad,  "that  there  exist  people  who,  evening  after 
evening,  can  drink  their  wine  and  eat  their  half- 
lobster  and  have  no  more  idea  of  music  and  har- 
mony and  beauty  and — what  do  you  say?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  waiter,  and  placed  a  fresh 
bottle  of  wine  on  the  table;  "it's  incredible  what 
that  kind  of  people,  with  their  well-filled  purses, 


THE  GREAT  BEAST  25 

can  put  out  of  sight  in  the  way  of  food  and  drink." 

When  Daniel  had  finished  sucking  the  last  thin 
lobster  leg,  he  lay  back  in  his  chair,  and  hauled 
out  of  his  pocket  a  letter  received  that  morning 
from  his  rich  uncle  the  ship-owner,  whose  ships 
sailed  both  to  Java  and  Farther  India. 

Daniel's  fight  with  Society  had,  during  the  last 
year,  culminated  in  a  lively  exchange  of  letters 
with  the  old  man,  who  was  indignant  at  his  re- 
fusing to  settle  down  to  something  "sensible." 

They  argued  and  bargained  to  no  avail.  The 
old  man  made  an  offer  in  connection  with  a  de- 
gree-examination, which  Daniel  declined  grace- 
fully. At  that  the  ship-owner  made  a  higher  bid. 
Daniel  was,  after  all,  his  sole  younger  relative, 
and  bore  his  name. 

Daniel  feigned  acquiescence,  and  demanded  a 
suitable  sum  for  the  purchase  of  books;  and  upon 
this  the  triumvirate  lived  in  style  for  a  time,  un- 
til it  came  to  the  old  man's  knowledge  that  Daniel 
continued  to  write  for  the  papers. 

The  old  man  could  never  refrain  from  reading 
what  Daniel  produced,  although  it  preached  de- 
struction to  all  that  which  he  and  his  generation 
had  sat  tight  on  and  defended  in  trade  and  in 
commerce,  and  made  speeches  and  earned  deco- 
rations and  titles  on  for  the  last  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury. Now  he  had  learnt  from  the  papers  that 
Daniel  was  about  to  have  one  of  his  shameless 
pieces  produced  in  a  theatre,  which  in  the  ship- 


26  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

owner's  young  days  had  been  nothing  but  a  low- 
class  music-hall  where  girls  went  round  and  took 
drinks  with  the  audience. 

Then  it  was  that  the  old  man  decided  to  put 
his  foot  down,  and  wrote  the  letter  which  Daniel 
had  received  with  his  morning  coffee. 

The  ship-owner  offered  a  gratis  voyage  on  the 
Atlanta,  his  largest  ship,  which  was  sailing  to 
Australia  in  a  week's  time.  He  would  furnish 
his  nephew  with  a  moderate  sum  of  money,  which 
however,  he  would  first  receive  on  arriving  at 
Brisbane ;  once  over  there  he  must  break  a  way  for 
himself  unaided. 

Daniel  read  the  letter  aloud  to  his  friends. 

"Accept!"  shouted  the  painter,  "and  take  me 
with  you!  There  are  certain  to  be  some  jungle 
and  savages  to  break  a  way  through  over  there." 

The  waiter  broke  in  upon  the  discussion  anx- 
iously : 

"And  this,  just  when  Hr.  Hooch  is  on  the  point 
of  success  at  the  theatre;  he  must  be  off  his 
head." 

Whilst  Daniel  in  a  sudden  fit  of  depression  sat 
silent  with  his  head  between  his  hands,  Jakob 
Beer,  his  swimming  eyes  staring  at  the  white  wine 
in  his  glass,  said: 

"Just  think  of  some  one  having  big  ships  of  his 
own  and  being  able  to  travel  all  round  the  world 
just  for  his  own  pleasure!  What  do  you  say?" 

"Pieter  Goy's  right!"  admitted  Hendrik 
Koort. 


THE  GREAT  BEAST  27 

"Let's  first  squeeze  all  we  can  out  of  Nature's 
Bosom;  then  we  can  break  our  way  afterwards." 

There  came  a  knock  at  the  door.  The  waiter 
opened. 

A  messenger  boy  stood  outside,  cap  in  hand, 
and  asked  for  Hr.  Hooch  the  author. 

Daniel's  eyes  shone  with  anticipation,  and  he 
stretched  out  his  hand  for  the  letter. 

Hendrik  took  it  from  the  waiter  as  he  brought 
it,  and  examined  the  envelope. 

"It's  from  the  Thieves'  Kitchen!"  he  shouted 
exultantly.  "Give  the  boy  half  a  guilder, 
Pieter!" 

Daniel  opened  the  letter  with  trembling  fingers. 
It  was,  in  spite  of  all,  his  own  little  play,  how- 
ever much  it  might  be  in  disgrace. 

As  he  read,  his  face  went  suddenly  white  and  his 
lips  began  to  tremble. 

Hendrik  Koort  snatched  the  paper  from  him 
and  read  aloud: 

"  'Utter  fiasco !  Hundred  guilders'  worth  of 
furniture  smashed  to  smithereens.  Police  have 
taken  the  names  of  your  gutter-brigade.  Au- 
dience howled  for  the  author  to  give  him  a  beat- 
ing. Thank  your  stars  you  were  not  present,  and 
take  your  solemn  oath  that  your  miserable  rub- 
bish shall  never  again  appear  on  my  boards. — 
Most  respectfully,  JANSSEN,  Director'  " 

The  painter  read  this  through  once  again  quite 
slowly,  while  the  waiter,  with  large,  anxious  eyes, 
peeped  over  his  shoulder.  Then  he  looked  from 


28  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

one  to  the  other,  and  relieved  his  feelings  with 
howls  of  laughter. 

The  waiter  nudged  him  indignantly.  What 
was  there  to  laugh  at?  It  was  a  tragedy ! 

Whilst  Hendrik  Koort  between  bursts  of  hi- 
larity kept  repeating  "Most  respectfully,  Janssen" 
in  varying  tones  of  voice,  Daniel,  who,  till  then, 
had  stood  quite  silent  with  trembling  lips,  suddenly 
crashed  his  fist  down  on  the  table,  so  that  the 
plates  danced  and  the  glasses  tinkled. 

"The  devil  take  me,"  he  hissed,  "if  I  stay 
longer  in  this  plague-stricken  country!" 

As  he  stood  thus,  breathing  heavily,  his  eyes 
fell  on  the  ship-owner's  letter,  which  lay  neglected 
among  the  glasses.  They  fell  on  the  word  "Bris- 
bane." The  strange,  almost  ludicrous  name  sud- 
denly entered  his  consciousness.  It  was  as  if  a 
new  world  had  appeared  dimly  in  the  distance. 
The  fairy  land  of  primitive  existence,  for  which 
he  had  always  longed,  stood  before  him  in  all  the 
seductive  radiance  of  freedom.  It  came  to  him 
as  an  angel  of  hope,  making  his  heart  beat 
violently. 

There  before  him  on  the  table  lay  the  actual 
written  invitation,  formed  in  stiff,  correct  business 
handwriting  on  hand-made  office  paper. 

Daniel  was  not  superstitious,  but  he  believed 
nevertheless  in  an  ironical  cosmic  control. 

His  cheek  was  still  red  from  the  blow  which 
the  Great  Beast  had  dealt  him. 

Well,   after   all,   he  had  deserved   no  better. 


THE  GREAT  BEAST  29 

Why  had  he  disgraced  his  pen  with  small,  coquet- 
tish malignities  when  he  should  have  used  it  to 
fling  forth  scorpions?  He,  whose  soul  aspired  to 
free  itself  from  the  curse  of  civilized  compulsion 
and  give  back  to  mankind  its  great  unfettered  ego. 

This  time  he  would  go  the  whole  hog — and 
hang  the  consequences. 

He  stood  still  for  such  a  long  time,  hypnotized 
by  the  resolution  which  had  pushed  its  way  out 
from  the  river  of  dreams  in  his  inner  conscious- 
ness,— swelled  by  all  the  small  springs  so  long 
dammed  up, — that  Jakob  Beer  at  last  became  un- 
easy and  plucked  at  his  sleeve. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of?"  he  asked. 

"I'm  going!"  said  Daniel  simply,  and  let  him- 
self fall  into  a  chair. 

A  smile  flickered  round  his  thin  lips,  while  his 
glance  wandered  over  the  spaces  between  the 
roof-beams,  his  hand  combing  his  sparse  brown 
hair. 

"What's  that  you  say?"  exclaimed  Hendrik, 
butting  towards  him  with  his  bulging  forehead. 

He  felt  that  something  big  was  in  the  air. 

"I  accept  his  offer !  I'm  going  to  abandon  this 
land — this  community,  which  I  hate,  which  will 
never  understand  me.  I  shall  leave  for  Brisbane 
on  the  old  man's  ship !" 

Hendrik  Koort  shifted  his  heavy  body  sud- 
denly, sending  the  chair  flying  against  the  wall. 

"Agreed!"  he  shouted,  banging  his  hand  on  the 
table.  "I'll  come  with  you." 


30  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Daniel  looked  down  from  the  spaces. 

"You ?     Where  will  you  get  the  money  from?" 

Jakob  Beer  felt  restless.  The  declaration  of 
the  others  for  freedom  had  opened  all  the  sluices 
of  that  wonderful  river  of  dreams  which  he,  also, 
hid  in  his  soul. 

Cost  what  it  might,  he  too  must  escape  from 
this  grey,  dirty  city,  must  break  away  from 
Society's  handcuffs,  the  shamefully  paid  lessons, 
the  wretched  existence  in  the  Church  of  the  Blind. 

Out  into  the  big  world  where  all  had  equal 
access  to  the  good  things  that  Nature  offered  in 
abundance  from  her  generous  bosom! 

Oh,  to  wander  under  lofty  date-palms;  to  lis- 
ten to  the  love-songs  of  strange  jungle  birds;  to 
drink  in  the  deep,  mystic  coral-music  of  solitude. 

"Take  me  with  you!"  he  begged,  laying  his 
thin,  musician's  hand  on  Daniel's  arm,  his  eyes 
looking  pleadingly  up  into  the  other's  eagle 
glance. 

Hendrik  Koort  sketched  with  his  fat  hand 
over  the  table ;  his  eyes  grew  large  and  fixed,  his 
red  hair  bristled. 

"The  virginal;  do  you  see? — the  likeness  be- 
hind the  symbols;  do  you  see? — there,  where  no 
man's  foot  has  trod, — where  no  one  has  yet  se- 
duced Nature  in  her  nakedness;  do  you  see? — 
that's  what  I  will  paint — the  sunrise;  do  you  see? 
— as  an  ape — a  colossal,  talented  ape  would  paint 
it — thus  will  /  paint  it." 

"We'll  live  like  the  first  human  beings!"  said 


THE  GREAT  BEAST  31 

Jakob  Beer,  "on  wild  fruits — which  hang  dan- 
gling from  the  trees  and  fall  with  a  thud  when 
you  shake  the  slender  stems.  The  white,  flesh- 
like  roots  we  will  eat — and " 

"We'll  walk  naked  beneath  the  burning  sun," 
carried  on  Hendrik  Koort;  "as  Nature  has  con- 
ceived us,  we  will  walk.  And  the  hair  will  grow 
and  grow  until  we  become  furry  over  our  whole 
bodies,  even  as  the  animals." 

Daniel  also  was  carried  away. 

"The  language  of  the  animals  we  will  speak — 
the  primitive,  formless  sound-signs  we  will  learn. 
A  poem  based  on  instinct  alone.  Oh,  for  a  life 
where  there's  no  good  nor  evil, — no  mine  and 
thine, —  no  thou  shall  and  thou  shalt  not!" 


Ill  :     WITH    THE    SHIP- 
OWNER'S  MONEY 

WHILST  the  triumvirate  thus  expatiated 
in  turn  on  all  the  great  and  beautiful 
that  awaited  them,  the  waiter's  good- 
natured  eyes  wandered  from  one  to  the  other. 
His  mind  worked  sluggishly,  striving  to  follow 
them  in  their  flight. 

Of  such  riches  and  happiness  he  had  never 
even  dreamed.  He  read  in  the  ecstasy  of  their 
glance,  the  tenderness  of  their  words,  that  here 
was  something  infinitely  better  than  trotting  him- 
self dead-tired  till  far  into  the  night  from  one 
dirty  room  to  the  other,  wiping  glasses  and  pour- 
ing out  beer  for  people  who  came  and  went  and 
were  completely  indifferent  as  to  whether  he  were 
dead  or  alive. 

"Is  it  true  that  you're  all  going  away?"  he 
asked,  looking  from  one  to  the  other,  his  brain 
whirling  at  the  thought  of  all  the  capital  he  had 
invested  in  the  triumvirate. 

"Is  it  true,"  he  asked,  "or  is  it  only  something 
you  all  sit  there  making  up?" 

Daniel  withdrew  his  eagle-glance  from  the  ceil- 
ing-spaces, and  asked  sternly: 

"What  was  that  you  said?" 
32 


WITH  SHIP-OWNER'S  MONEY      33 

The  waiter  summoned  up  his  courage  and 
straightened  himself  in  his  chair: 

"I  only  said  that  if  it's  true  that  you're  going 
away,  all  of  you,  then  I'm  going  with  you." 

His  blue  eyes  gazed  out  trustfully  from  the 
ruddy  face,  whilst  his  fat  hand  nervously  fingered 
his  waistcoat  pocket  where  he  kept  his  gold  watch, 
not  yet  paid  for,  on  the  instalment  system. 

"What?" 

Hendrik  swung  round  and  stared  at  him. 

Jakob  Beer's  glance  became  moist  and  tender. 
He  realized  suddenly  that  he  liked  Pieter  Goy 
and  his  blue,  faithful  eyes. 

Daniel  sat  down  in  amazement.  Then  he  ran 
his  eyes  slowly  over  the  waiter.  From  his  flaxen, 
yellow  hair,  plastered  so  smoothly  and  carefully 
to  his  scalp — from  the  semicircular  curve  of  the 
sweat-glistening  forehead,  the  fat,  ruddy  cheeks, 
the  little  snub  nose,  the  light  yellow  moustache, 
the  slightly  protruding  red  lips,  the  soft,  hanging 
chin — down  over  the  well-nourished  breast,  which, 
squeezed  between  narrow  shoulders,  bulged  out, 
so  to  speak,  under  the  grease-spotted  coat, — to 
the  thick,  stubby  legs  which  supported  the  whole. 

Yes,  there  was  strength  there  all  right.  There 
was  respect  and  readiness  to  serve,  too.  Perhaps 
even  allegiance.  The  trustfulness  of  the  simple 
nature  towards  the  born  leader. 

Daniel  felt  something  approaching  emotion. 
It  touched  them  all  three  that  this  waiter,  this 
inoffensive  private  instrument  for  feeding  them 


34  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

and  lending  them  money,  sat  there  filled  with  de- 
votion towards  them,  would  not  be  separated 
from  them. 

Their  connection  with  Pieter  Goy  suddenly 
lifted  itself  to  the  level  of  a  business  acquain- 
tance. Each  one  of  them  was  willing  to  open  an 
account  with  him. 

"Yes,  but  what  about  money,  Pieter?"  asked 
Hendrik.  "For  it's  a  sight  dearer  than  going  to 
'the  Island.'  " 

It  was  a  matter  of  general  knowledge  that 
Pieter  Goy  spent  his  few  summer  "Sundays  off" 
on  a  little  grass-covered  island  out  in  the  Zuyder 
Zee  which  was  commonly  referred  to  as  "the 
Island." 

Daniel,  the  possessor  of  the  invitation,  felt 
himself  the  master  of  the  situation.  It  was  from 
him  that  all  good  and  new  must  come.  He  filled 
the  glasses,  and,  as  if  it  were  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world,  took  a  beer-glass  (there  were 
no  more  wine-glasses),  filled  it,  and  pushed  it  to- 
wards Pieter  Goy,  who,  blushing  self-consciously, 
hesitated  a  moment,  wiping  his  hand  on  his 
trousers  before  reaching  out  for  the  wine. 

They  all  drank  in  silence.  Daniel  lowered  his 
glass,  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  and  said 
amiably: 

"You  don't  believe,  surely,  that  the  old  man  is 
mad  enough  to  give  a  free  ticket  to  others  than 
myself?" 

Jakob  Beer  was  struck  with  a  bright  idea: 


WITH  SHIP-OWNER'S  MONEY      35 

"Tell  him,  Daniel,  that  it's  an  honour  for  a 
man  like  him  to  help  young,  struggling  Art. 
And  you,  Hendrik, — yes,  you  should  really, — 
offer  him  your  'Promised  Isle'  when  it  is  finished. 
And  I'll  present  him  with  the  great  nature-sym- 
phony which  I  shall  compose  under  the  palm 
trees  out  there.  'To  my  noble  benefactor. — To 
him  without  whose  fatherly  kindness  this  work 
would  perhaps  never  have  seen  the  light' — or 
something  after  that  style.  What  do  you  say?" 

"And  Pieter,  there,"  suggested  Hendrik 
Koort,  "can  offer  to  wait  on  him  gratis  and  for 
nothing  at  the  Lions'  Den  when  he  comes  back 
again." 

Daniel  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  again 
stared  at  the  ceiling-spaces,  stroking  his  thin  hair 
the  while. 

Hendrik  Koort  could  see  from  his  friend's 
eyes  that  he  was  on  the  verge  of  finding  a  solu- 
tion. He  therefore  made  a  sign  to  silence  Jakob, 
who  had  relapsed  into  a  state  of  depression  to 
which  he  was  about  to  give  expression  in  many 
vague  words. 

Pieter  Goy  felt  a  little  unbalanced  at  the  new 
thing  that  had  befallen  him.  Hendrik  Koort  had 
addressed  him  as  Pieter,  just  as  if  he  were  one  of 
the  triumvirate, — while  Daniel,  yes,  Daniel 
Hooch  himself,  had  filled  his  glass  for  him  with 
his  own  hands. 

He  sat  sipping  at  it  still,  as  he  let  his  glance 
wander  round  the  dirty  yellow  walls. 


36  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

It  was  as  if  the  Lions'  Den  had  been  suddenly 
transformed  into  a  room  where  he  had  something 
other  to  do  than  to  serve  food  and  drink.  There 
floated  before  his  consciousness  such  ideas  as 
"home"  and  "cosiness" — things  which  he  had 
known  nothing  of  since  he  was  quite  a  little  boy, 
and  the  mere  thought  of  which  brought  tears  into 
his  eyes. 

Whilst  the  others  sat  waiting  to  hear  what 
Daniel  was  planning,  Pieter  Goy  all  at  once  felt 
quite  at  his  ease.  A  sudden  happy  feeling  at  be- 
ing one  of  the  charmed  circle  swelled  up  inside 
his  broad  breast  and  filled  his  blue  eyes.  He 
moved  his  chair  nearer  the  table  and  said  art- 
lessly : 

"And  when  is  it  to  be?" 

Daniel  felt  that  he  was  lord  over  good  and 
evil — an  absolutely  new  sensation,  which  made 
him  proud  and  domineering. 

He  sat  up  in  his  chair  and  said: 

"The  old  man  offers  me  a  sum  of  money  which 
I  can't  get  until  arrival  at  Brisbane.  I  refuse  to 
accept  the  condition." 

"Yes,  we  refuse  to  accept,"  echoed  the  painter, 
making  a  gesture  of  rejection.  "Perhaps  there's 
nothing  called  Brisbane  at  all  when  we  get  there. 
Supposing  he  has  sat  down  and  plotted  it  all  out 
over  his  whisky  to  get  rid  of  us,  the  old !" 

"As  far  as  I  can  remember,  Brisbane  is  an  ab- 
solutely modern  town." 

Hendrik  Koort's  face  lengthened. 


WITH  SHIP-OWNER'S  MONEY      37 

"Then  we  might  just  as  well  remain  at  home, 
where  we  at  least  know  the  cafes  and  pawnshops, 
and  how  to  keep  things  going  when  we're  hard 
op." 

"Shut  up,  Hendrik! — Brisbane,  therefore,  I 
reject.  And,  generally  speaking,  I  will  have 
nothing  to  do  with  promises.  Whatever  I'm  to 
have,  I'll  have  at  once." 

Jakob  Beer  looked  up  admiringly  at  him,  and 
Hendrik  nodded  vigorously. 

"On  the  other  hand,"  continued  Daniel,  lei- 
surely lighting  a  cigarette, — "on  the  other  hand,  I 
am  willing  to  leave  the  country  on  the  Atlanta  on 
condition  that  I  am  guaranteed  travelling  ex- 
penses from  Brisbane  to — to  an  island — to  some 
island  or  other  chosen  by  myself  in  some  neigh- 
bouring archipelago." 

"An  archipelago!"  exclaimed  Pieter  Goy. 
"What's  that?" 

"It  is  a  group  of  islands.  There's  the  Indian 
archipelago  and — and  many  others." 

"An  island  with  jungles  and  palms,"  added 
Jakob  Beer  dreamily. 

"With  coral  reefs  and  monkeys  and  cocoa-nuts, 
and  the  usual  tropical  animal  and  plant  life,"  ex- 
plained Hendrik  Koort. 

"An  uninhabited  island,"  emphasized  Daniel; 
"an  island  completely  uninhabited  by  any  kind  of 
human  life  whatever." 

The  painter  nodded  with  open  mouth  and  fixed 
glance.  Beer  rocked  to  and  fro  on  his  chair.  He 


38  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

was  already  away  under  the  shadow  of  the  palm 
trees,  listening  to  the  music  of  tropical  nature. 
Only  Pieter  Goy  was  staring  tensely  at  Daniel's 
pale  face,  with  its  quickly  changing  expressions, 
waiting  anxiously  to  hear  how  it  was  to  be  ar- 
ranged so  that  they  could  all  go  away  together. 

The  more  Daniel  realized  the  fact  that  all 
things  emanated  from  him,  the  greater  became 
his  confidence,  the  firmer  his  standpoint. 

His  head  grew  bigger  and  bigger,  he  leaned 
forward  importantly  over  the  table  as  if,  instead 
of  meek,  faithful  Pieter  Goy,  it  were  the  ship- 
owner himself  who  sat,  anxious  and  respectful, 
on  the  chair  opposite,  waiting  for  Daniel  to  dic- 
tate his  terms. 

"My  terms  are" — Daniel  craned  his  long  body 
forward  and  thrust  his  keen  eyes  right  into  Pieter 
Goy's  face,  so  that  the  waiter  cowered  back  ter- 
rified in  his  chair — "my  final  terms  are  that  the 
sum  of  money  that  I  was  to  receive  in  Brisbane 
be  delivered  to  me  unconditionally,  before  my 
departure — to  a  destination  to  be  decided  by  my- 
self. And  this  sum — this  money — I  shall  employ 
not  only  to  equip  myself  with  but  also  my  dear 
friends,  whom  I  shall  take  with  me;  in  that  I  am 
willing  to  furnish  a  share  of  their  expenses  for 
the  journey  out  of  the  above-mentioned  sum, 
which  must  be  sufficient  for  the  purpose. " 

Hendrik  Koort  sprang  to  his  feet,  sending  his 
chair  reeling  against  the  wall,  and  flung  himself 
across  the  table  to  embrace  his  friend. 


WITH  SHIP-OWNER'S  MONEY      39 

Jakob  Beer  began  to  weep  with  emotion,  and  in 
vain  sought  for  words  to  express  his  gratitude. 

But  Pieter  Goy,  the  blood  deserting  his  cheeks 
at  the  decision,  stood  up  from  his  chair,  stretched 
out  his  fleshy  red  hand,  and  said,  with  obvious 
emotion,  at  the  same  time  cancelling  in  his  mind 
the  many  small  sums  owed  him  by  Daniel: 

uMany  thanks,  Hooch." 

But  suddenly  Hendrik  Koort  felt  doubtful. 

"Do  you  think  the  ship-owner  will  agree?  Of 
course  you  know  him  best!" 

Daniel  had  sat  down.  Self-satisfied  and 
gorged  with  his  power,  he  was  in  no  mood  to 
be  disturbed  by  doubts. 

"He  must  agree,"  he  said,  shrugging  his 
shoulders  superciliously. 

He  closed  his  eyes  and  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke 
through  his  nostrils. 

The  plan  succeeded. 

The  old  man  wriggled,  both  verbally  and  by 
letter,  but  gave  way  finally.  For  Daniel  stood 
firm,  and  was  not  to  be  turned  from  his  purpose. 

A  month  later,  by  which  time  Nature's  Bosom 
had  been  long  since  forgotten,  Daniel  and  his 
friends  departed  unostentatiously — the  ship- 
owner having  made  his  acceptance  conditional  on 
the  Press  not  thrusting  its  nose  in  his  private  af- 
fairs— for  Marseilles,  where  they  were  to  embark 
on  board  the  Atlanta,  which  in  the  meanwhile  had 
called  at  Le  Havre,  Bordeaux,  and  Malaga. 

From  Marseilles  they  went  direct  to  Port  Said. 


40  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Thereafter  they  would  touch  at  Ceylon,  Freman- 
tle,  and  Melbourne;  and  the  Atlanta  having  ar- 
rived at  Brisbane,  the  friends  would  proceed 
farther  on  board  a  Pacific  steamer  calling  at  the 
Fiji  Islands  en  route  for  San  Francisco. 

The  ship-owner  had  himself  booked  the  tickets 
from  Brisbane,  thus  avoiding  unnecessary  risks. 
By  means  of  his  foreign  connections  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  arranging  for  the  steamer  to  put  the 
party  ashore  on  a  small,  palm-grown,  coral  is- 
land, one  of  the  outermost  members  of  the  Fiji 
group,  and  lying  not  far  out  of  the  ship's  regular 
course. 

Daniel  had  paid  several  visits  to  the  public 
library,  poring  over  imposing  geographical  vol- 
umes and  atlases,  before  he  had  succeeded  in 
finding  an  island  fulfilling  all  the  necessary  con- 
ditions. 


IV:     THE    PROMISED    ISLE 

ON  the  bosom  of  the  enormous  dark-green 
rollers  the  boat  with  Daniel  and  his 
friends  glided  towards  the  distant  spot 
of  mist. 

Their  glowing  expectation,  woven  together  of 
longings  and  dreams,  had  raced  ahead  of  them 
with  infinitely  greater  horse-power  than  even  the 
largest  steamer  ever  built  could  have  displayed. 

It  hovered  over  the  unknown  island  towards 
which  they  now  strained  their  eyes.  Perhaps  it 
was  that  which  greeted  them  welcome  there  out 
on  the  distant  horizon. 

The  mist  took  form.  It  separated  into  two 
parts,  one  darker  than  the  other.  The  darker 
portion  floated  over  the  lighter;  and  as  the  little 
motor  chaloop  approached  nearer  and  nearer  to 
the  low  white  coast, — where  the  swell  broke  on 
the  outermost  coral  reef  in  a  bubbling  belt  of  foam 
which  hid  the  narrow  strip  of  smooth  water  be- 
hind the  reef, — the  darker-coloured  mist  turned 
deep  green  against  the  blue  background  of  the 
sky.  It  became  domed  in  form;  and  something 
vague  rose  above  something  else  in  slow,  preor- 
dained disorder,  until  the  whole  became  quite  sud- 
denly a  palm  grove. 

They  sat  staring  wide-eyed,  holding  fast  to  the 
41 


42  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

railings,  as  the  boat's  movements  on  approaching 
the  coast  became  more  unquiet  and  the  waves 
shorter. 

None  of  them  spoke.  Each  single  day  during 
the  long  journey  they  had  talked  of  the  island, 
and  each  one  separately  had  taken  possession  of 
it  in  his  imagination;  but  now  that  it  lay  before 
them  in  the  sharp  daylight  of  reality,  it  suddenly 
so  to  speak  evaded  their  mastery. 

It  seemed  almost  as  if  it  were  laughing  at  them. 
They  realized  that  time  and  labour  would  be 
necessary  before  they  could  compel  it  to  acknowl- 
edge them  as  its  lords. 

The  painter  sat  with  open  mouth  and  lowered 
forehead,  while  his  eyes  strove  to  pierce  the  dark 
confusion  of  century-old  liana  creepers  which 
bound  the  trees  together  in  an  unseparable  whole. 

Where  were  the  green  spots  in  the  shade  of 
graceful  cocoa-nut  palms  where  he  should  recline 
on  soft  grass  beneath  the  crystal  dome  of  sun- 
filled  air? 

Perhaps  the  sailors  were  secretly  laughing  at 
him  and  his  companions!  He  threw  a  side  glance 
at  them,  but  could  read  nothing  in  their  weather- 
beaten  faces.  Each  one  did  his  duty  and  thought 
only  of  finding  an  inlet  into  the  smooth  water  the 
other  side  of  the  reef. 

Jakob  Beer  trembled  like  a  sick  monkey.  His 
dark  eyebrows  twitched  nervously.  He  had 
suffered  periodically  during  the  whole  voyage 
from  sea-sickness,  and  more  than  once  in  the 


THE  PROMISED  ISLE  43 

worst  period  had  wished  himself  back  between  the 
dirty  yelJow  walls  of  the  Lions'  Den.  But  when 
the  weather  turned  fine  he  repented  with  a  very 
bad  conscience.  He  felt  that  he  had  committed 
sacrilege  against  the  wonder  that  was  growing 
nearer  day  by  day. 

Now  he  sat  there  and  huddled  himself  together, 
but  could  not  get  comfortable.  Besides,  he  was 
hungry  and  exhausted,  because  of  late  he  had  been 
unable  to  eat  or  sleep  properly  for  excitement 
and  expectation. 

He  had  imagined  it  in  advance  as  a  moment  of 
ecstasy — that  moment  when  the  marvellous  is- 
land should  rise  before  their  eyes.  But  of  delight 
there  was  no  trace.  With  shame  he  admitted  to 
himself  that  what  he  felt,  most  of  all,  was  fear. 

Things  would  be  all  right,  he  comforted  him- 
self. Once  they  had  set  foot  on  the  blessed  is- 
land, tasted  its  exquisite  fruits,  baked  their  backs 
in  its  sun,  joy — life's  elemental  joy — would  hold 
its  entry  singing  into  their  hearts. 

Pieter  Goy  sat  with  folded  hands,  his  eyes 
directed  towards  the  island.  He  himself  did  not 
understand  what  he  felt,  neither  was  he  accus- 
tomed thus  to  analyse  things.  It  was  something 
approaching  adoration  which  possessed  him, 
mingled  with  curiosity — adoration  for  the  tall 
palm  crowns  with  their  long,  narrow  leaves  wav- 
ing in  the  fresh  sea-breeze,  like  pennants  on  a 
summer  day  back  there  at  home. 

Lack  of  knowledge  had  prevented  his  forming, 


44  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

like  the  others,  a  definite  conception  of  the  island 
beforehand.  He  had  busied  himself  more  with 
the  practical  side  of  matters.  How,  for  example, 
would  they  manage  with  regard  to  food !  For  it 
could  not  very  well  be  that  the  trees  hung  laden 
with  fruit  both  winter  and  summer. 

During  the  long  voyage  he  had  enjoyed  thought- 
fully and  understandingly  all  the  many  things  that 
were  new  to  him.  He  had  left  no  one  behind 
whom  he  missed,  and  therefore  was  all  the  more 
able  to  concentrate  his  interest  in  the  moment. 

Of  anxiety  for  the  future  he  felt  no  trace.  It 
would  always  be  difficult  for  life  to  be  more  joy- 
less than  the  existence  he  had  led  in  the  dim,  dirty 
rooms  from  morning  till  evening  ever  since  leav- 
ing his  love  romance  behind,  and  deserting  Groen- 
ingen  for  Amsterdam.  It  was  the  Lions'  Den 
and  its  triumvirate  which  had  been  the  light  in 
his  daily  life.  When  the  light  went  away,  he 
went  away  with  it. 

Now  it  lay  there,  the  island — lifelike  before 
his  eyes. 

Yes,  it  was  quite  a  nice  island,  just  to  look  at. 
Only  the  grove  appeared  a  trifle  forbidding  in  the 
distance. 

The  boat  slowed  down.  One  of  the  sailors  in 
the  bow  began  to  take  soundings.  A  sharp  shout, 
and  the  tiller  was  pulled  over,  causing  the  boat 
to  swing  round  in  a  narrow  semicircle,  broadside 
on  to  the  swell. 

It  heeled  over  so  violently  that  the  painter 


THE  PROMISED  ISLE  45 

slipped  off  his  seat  and  had  to  make  a  hurried 
grasp  at  the  railings  to  save  himself  from  rolling 
down  against  the  engine-box  at  the  bottom  of  the 
boat. 

As  the  boat  now  went  slowly  forward,  the 
island  disclosed  itself  in  all  its  length. 

There,  where  the  cliffs  jutted  farthest  out  to 
the  coast,  the  wood  ceased,  giving  place  to  a 
wilderness  of  bushes. 

There,  the  coast-line  retreated,  forming  a  bay, 
the  interior  of  which  they  could  not  see.  But 
beyond  the  bay  the  land  continued  towards  the 
misty  sky-line,  where  it  turned  to  lowland,  clothed 
in  dark  green  woods. 

The  island  seemed  much  larger  than  they  had 
expected. 

At  last  the  boatswain  found  a  place  where  the 
reef  sank  and  formed  an  inlet  to  the  calm  water 
behind  the  ring  of  coral. 

The  helm  was  shifted  and  the  speed  increased 
so  that  the  spray  from  the  bows  splashed  those 
who  sat  foremost. 

Jakob  Beer  felt  his  sea-sickness  returning.  He 
clung  to  the  gunwale,  stretched  out  his  head  and 
stared  down  into  the  dark-green  crystalline 
waters,  in  whose  depths  he  could  distinguish 
dark  shadows  which  came  and  went. 

They  were  probably  the  big,  ogreish  wonder- 
fish  of  which  he  had  seen  pictures  in  an  encyclo- 
paedia. They  lurked  there,  deep  down  under  the 
water,  puzzling  over  the  immense  creature  which 


46  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

swam  so  high  up  that  half  its  body  was  out  of 
water.  How  terrified  they  must  be  of  its  weird 
tail  which  went  tirelessly  round  and  round  at  full 
speed! 

"A  monkey — a  monkey!"  shouted  Hendrik 
Koort,  pointing  to  something  living  and  brown 
which  he  could  see  in  a  tall  palm  standing  by  it- 
self near  the  shore. 

"There  are  no  large  mammals  on  the  small 
islands,"  quoted  Daniel  from  his  recently  acquired 
knowledge;  "and  monkeys  are  not  found  even  on 
the  big  ones." 

But  the  painter  would  not  abandon  his  belief  in 
the  monkey.  It  made  the  island  real  for  him.  It 
was  what  he  had  waited  for,  before  finally  believ- 
ing that  this  really  was  the  island  which  he  had 
carried  about  for  two  months  in  his  head,  taken 
into  his  heart. 

They  crawled  forward  at  lowest  speed,  pre- 
pared every  moment  to  reverse  the  engine. 
Straight  ahead  of  them  lay  the  rocky  coast  where 
the  water  rippled  in  small,  quiet  waves  over  the 
uneven  ground. 

They  were  now  barely  fifty  yards  from  the 
firm  strand,  where  a  dark  line  of  washed-up 
aquatic  plants  and  dead  marine  animals  marked 
the  extent  of  the  flood  tide. 

The  first  strange  bird-shriek  sounded  to  them 
from  the  edge  of  the  wood,  which  lay  a  little 
farther  inland. 

Simultaneously    multi-coloured    bird    feathers 


THE  PROMISED  ISLE  47 

flashed  like  lightning  through  the  air  from  tree- 
top  to  tree-top. 

"Listen  to  the  parrots!"  shouted  the  painter, 
straining  his  eyes  forward. 

Then  he  saw  again  something  large  and  dark 
glide  swiftly  down  the  bare  tree-stems.  First 
one,  then  two,  then  many.  He  felt  sure  that  they 
were  monkeys  bidding  them  welcome. 

Pieter  Goy  became  thoughtful  at  the  sight. 
What  attitude  would  they  take?  Could  they 
really  be  sure  that  none  of  the  large  beasts  of  prey 
were  to  be  found  on  the  island?  When  no 
human  beings  lived  there,  who  could  know  for 
certain?  Daniel,  after  all,  had  made  a  mistake 
with  regard  to  the  monkeys. 

Supposing  a  tiger  were  to  come  suddenly  sneak- 
ing out  from  under  the  gigantic  hanging  roots 
over  there  in  front  of  where  the  wood  was  dark- 
est— that  would  be  a  nice  thing. 

Thank  Heaven  he  had  his  gun.  Hendrik 
Koort  had  declared  vehemently  that  they  should 
come  to  the  island  bringing  peace.  The  animals 
should  be  their  friends,  and  in  the  end  would  eat 
out  of  their  hands. 

Jakob  Beer,  too,  had  fought  indignantly  against 
the  gun.  As  long  as  they  carried  that  weapon  of 
Cain  with  them,  the  hated  civilization  would  be 
still  with  them;  besides  which  they  would  all  the 
time  be  tempted  to  attack  animate  nature. 

It  was  Daniel  finally  who  had  backed  up  Pieter 
Goy,  because,  as  he  said,  one  could  not  know 


48  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

whether  at  some  time  or  other  savages  might 
not  land  on  the  island  and  attack  the  white  men, 
regarding  them  as  enemies. 

Now  the  boat  came  to  a  stop  among  the  rocks. 
One  of  the  sailors  swung  himself  over  the  side 
and  made  the  rope  fast  to  a  piece  of  rock  jutting 
up  out  of  the  water,  while  another  sailor  fixed  the 
anchor  in  a  crevice. 

Then  two  boards  were  put  out  for  a  gangway. 

The  painter  hurried  forward  to  be  the  first  on 
shore.  He  jumped  from  rock  to  rock,  balancing 
with  arms  in  the  air,  until  he  reached  the  place 
where  the  ground  was  unbroken  and  the  water 
glided  smoothly  in  narrow  channels  between  white 
rocks,  motionless  starfish,  and  great  empty  sea- 
shells,  which  gaped  at  him  with  faintly  blushing 
mouths. 

Daniel  remained  on  board  to  ensure  that  all 
the  baggage  belonging  to  the  quartette  came 
safely  to  land. 

There,  where  the  strand  sloped  upwards  to  the 
cliff,  with  its  covering  of  dislodged  roots,  each 
clinging  to  its  mouthful  of  earth,  lay  a  natural 
harbour  sheltered  on  every  side  except  towards 
the  sea. 

Here,  under  the  direction  of  Pieter  Goy,  who 
quite  calmly  took  command  the  moment  they 
reached  land,  the  sailors  piled  the  trunks  and 
boxes  up  against  the  face  of  the  cliff. 


V:    THE   SUN    BRETHREN 

WHEN  Daniel  had  made  sure  that  every- 
thing was  disembarked,  and  the  boat- 
swain stood  ready  to  return  to  the  boat 
with  his  sailors,  there  was  a  sudden  silence,  dur- 
ing which  all — both  those  about  to  return  to  hu- 
manity, and  those  who  were  surrendering  them- 
selves unconditionally  to  Nature — felt  a  solemn 
spasm  of  emotion  shake  their  hearts. 

Daniel  realized  that  the  moment  demanded 
something  unusual. 

Of  the  money  given  him  by  his  uncle,  there 
were  about  one  hundred  guilders  left. 

As  he  took  out  his  purse  to  give  the  crew  a 
reward,  the  thought  crossed  his  mind  that  this 
was  the  last  occasion  on  which  he  would  have 
an  opportunity  to  give  Society  that  which  be- 
longed to  it,  to  draw  a  distinction  between  mine 
and  thine  by  means  of  the  Emperor's — that  was 
to  say,  the  Queen  of  Holland's  picture. 

These  round  golden  pieces  which  now  weighed 
down  his  hand — these,  for  which  he  and  his  com- 
rades had  fought  a  vain  and  bitter  fight  in  the 

old  country these,  whose  gleam  two  short 

months  ago  would  have  caused  their  eyes  to  shine, 
their  hearts  to  beat — were  now  suddenly  meta- 
morphosed to  useless  objects,  which  could  serve 

49 


50  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

neither  for  food  nor  for  drink,  and  at  best  could 
be  made  into  a  chain  for  a  watch  or  for  the  neck 

of  a  woman if  there  had  been  a  woman's 

neck  to  hang  them  on.  Nay,  more,  the  purse  in 
which  he  had  kept  them,  however  old  and  soiled 
it  might  be,  had  become  in  a  flash  more  valuable; 
that,  at  any  rate,  could  be  used  as  a  receptacle 
for  something  or  other. 

He  turned  and  looked  towards  the  strand;  to- 
wards the  limitless  sea,  where  the  smoke  of  the 
steamer  still  hung  low  down  and  sluggish  on  the 
gentle  curve  of  the  horizon;  towards  the  palm 
trees  whose  leaves  were  rubbing  against  one  an- 
other with  a  faint  rustling  sound.  .  .  . 

It  had  all  suddenly  become  clear  to  him  that 
money  now  no  longer  barred  the  way. 

Life  was  no  longer  a  matter  of  pursuing  these 
small,  round,  shiny  symbols.  Now  it  was  the 
essentials  themselves  that  must  be  grasped. 

Which  was  the  more  difficult? — he  thought  in- 
voluntarily, anxiety  throwing  its  shadow  over 
his  mind. 

But  only  for  a  moment. 

Then  he  poured  out  all  the  coins  into  his  hands, 
enjoying  their  clinking  for  the  last  time. 

"All  this  is  yours!"  he  said,  showing  the  men 
the  gold.  "Share  it  among  yourselves  and  your 
friends!" 

The  sailors  raised  their  hands  to  their  caps; 
but  at  the  same  time  looked  askance  at  his  proudly 


THE  SUN  BRETHREN  51 

erect  head,  as  if  doubtful  whether  he  were  in  his 
full  senses. 

The  boatswain,  on  the  contrary — he  was  some- 
thing approaching  an  educated  man — shook 
Daniel  by  the  hand,  stood  to  attention,  and  said: 

"We  wish  you  the  best  of  luck,  and  hope  that 
you  will  find  here  all  that  you  have  come  out  to 
find,  and  a  lot  more  besides;  that  no  illness  or 
other  misfortune  will  befall  you,  flood  or  hurri- 
cane or  whatever  else  may  happen  in  these  parts, 
such  as  you  read  and  hear  about.  And  God 
grant  that  you  may  all  come  back  safe  and  sound." 

"Men!"  he  shouted,  holding  up  his  hand  ancl 
turning  towards  the  sailors. 

They  pulled  off  their*  caps.  Their  surly  faces 
flung  three  solemn  cheers  towards  Daniel  and  his 
friends. 

The  painter  tore  the  tropical  helmet  from  his 
red  hair,  went  round  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and 
gave  each  sailor  his  broad,  hairy  hand,  which  was 
shaken  thoroughly. 

When  he  had  finished,  he  took  out  his  pocket- 
case  and  emptied  it  of  its  remaining  contents.  He 
also  had  realized  that,  in  future,  money  was 
worthless. 

Jakob  Beer,  who,  all  his  life,  had  had  a  fatal- 
istic contempt  for  money,  also  gave  away  his  last 
coin  with  a  light  heart. 

Pieter  Goy,  however,  went  alternately  red  and 
white.  His  hand  made  an  involuntary  move- 


52  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

ment  towards  his  treasure,  as  if  to  guard  it  against 
assault. 

Before  his  departure  from  home  he  had  con- 
verted all  his  worldly  goods  into  cash,  besides 
realizing  the  remaining  portion  of  the  small  for- 
tune left  him  by  his  mother,  the  whole  being  hid- 
den inside  his  shirt  sewn  in  a  small  leather  bag 
made  by  himself. 

To  him  the  generosity  of  the  others  seemed  in- 
comprehensible, almost  criminal.  How  could 
Daniel  throw  away  the  last  coin  he  possessed  to 
these  strangers,  who  would  only  laugh  at  them  the 
moment  they  returned  to  their  boat,  and  probably 
squander  their  good  money  in  drink  and  black 
girls  on  their  first  leave  ashore ! 

Even  if  they  were  now  going  to  be  brothers, 
with  everything  in  common,  it  might  easily  occur 
that  one  or  other  of  them  might  find  something 
good  which  the  others  also  wished  to  possess; 
then  they  would  have  to  fight  for  it.  Or  were 
you  to  give  it  away — here  you  are,  you  can  have 
it? 

But  even  if  things  were  to  be  thus,  it  would  still 
be  impossible  for  them  to  leave  the  island  with- 
out money. 

Was  it,  then,  really  the  intention  of  Daniel  and 
his  friends  never  to  return  home? 

Pieter  Goy  looked  in  sudden  helplessness  from 
one  to  the  other.  Then  he  glanced  round  at  the 
palms,  at  the  roots  clutching  at  the  cliff,  at  the 


THE  SUN  BRETHREN  53 

sun-dried  starfish  and  other  wonderful  creatures 
of  the  sea  as  they  lay  glistening  in  the  sun. 

A  sudden  terror  of  it  all,  so  alluring,  so  strange, 
gripped  his  heart.  He  wished  himself  with  his 
whole  soul  back  on  his  little  green  island  in  the 
Zuyder  Zee. 

He'd  be  hanged  if  he  would!  Be  hanged  if 
he  would  throw  away  the  last  thing  that  connected 
him  with  the  old  country.  If  everything  went 
wrong,  then  he  would  still  have  the  leather  bag 
with  the  pieces  of  gold.  Sooner  or  later  there 
would  pass  a  steamer  which,  in  exchange  for  an 
appeal  and  his  good  gold,  would  take  them  on 
board. 

Not  that  he  thought  for  a  moment  of  saving 
his  own  skin  at  the  expense  of  the  others ;  far  less 
of  hoarding. 

But  all  the  same, — he  would  hide  the  money. 
None  of  the  others  should  know  that  he  had  it. 
Perhaps  some  time  or  other  it  would  be  the  means 
of  salvation  for  them  all. 

Pieter  Goy,  now  that  his  turn  had  come,  pro- 
duced his  purse  deliberately. 

He  opened  it  and  held  it  out  to  show  that  this 
couple  of  guilders  and  the  new  coppers  were  all 
that  he  had  left. 

The  sailors  should  have  them.  Yes,  by  Jingo, 
they  should  have  every  single  one  of  them  1  And 
Pieter  Goy  went  from  man  to  man,  giving  a  fair 
and  equal  share  to  each.  And  when  at  the  end 


54  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

there  was  a  half-guilder  left,  he  asked  the  boat- 
swain to  give  him  change,  sharing  that  also  among 
them. 

It  was  like  the  widow  and  her  last  mite.  The 
sailors  felt  instinctively  that  Pieter  Goy,  in  spite 
of  his  clothes,  was  socially  inferior  to  his  com- 
panions, and  more  of  the  same  class  as  them- 
selves; they  grew  quite  jovial,  and  shook  his  hand 
in  a  much  more  hearty  manner  than  they  had  done 
with  the  others. 

Once  more  they  said  good-bye.  Then  the 
sailors,  headed  by  the  boatswain,  turned  and  left 
them. 

Thoughtfully  they  walked  down  towards  the 
water. 

Daniel  and  his  friends  watched  them  jump 
from  rock  to  rock.  The  boatswain  was  the  last 
to  leave. 

They  swung  themselves  up  over  the  railings 
into  the  boat.  The  mooring-rope  was  unhitched 
from  the  rock,  and  the  anchor  freed  from  the 
crevice  in  the  cliff. 

Each  man  took  up  his  position.  In  the  deep 
silence  rose  the  slow,  cautious  tuff-tuff  of  the 
engine. 

As  the  boat  finally  swung  free  and  circled  round 
to  bring  its  bow  foremost,  the  boatswain  rose  to 
his  feet  aft.  Caps  swung  in  the  sunlit  air,  and 
three  lusty  cheers  resounded  towards  the  island. 

The  painter  sprang  to  his  feet  and,  followed 
by  the  others,  ran  down  to  the  edge  of  the  water. 


THE  SUN  BRETHREN  55 

There  they  stood  bareheaded  in  the  sun  and 
shouted  their  answering  salute. 

In  silence  they  stared  after  the  boat  until  their 
eyes  could  no  longer  distinguish  it.  When  it  at 
last  vanished  behind  the  coral  reef's  line  of  foam, 
Daniel  turned  towards  the  island,  with  its  low 
cliffs,  its  thickly  interlaced  trees,  its  parrots  and 
whatever  other  living  creatures  it  might  be  hid- 
ing from  them. 

"This  island,"  said  he  solemnly,  "which  we 
herewith  take  possession  of,  shall  from  now  on- 
wards be  called  Sun  Island,  and  we,  the  Brethren 
of  the  Sun." 

A  parrot  from  a  neighbouring  tree  shrieked  an 
angry  protest. 


VI  :     TOWARDS   THE 

UNKNOWN 

WHEN  the  Sun  Brethren  had  seen  the 
last  remnants  of  Society  disappear  in 
the  form  of  a  line  of  smoke  on  the  blue 
horizon,  they  betook  themselves  to  exploring  the 
strand. 

North  of  the  bay,  at  the  base  of  which  they  had 
been  set  ashore  on  the  island,  the  ground  sloped 
gently  towards  the  still,  crystal  water,  called  by 
Daniel  the  lagoon,  because  it  lay  inside  the  coral 
reef. 

Here,  on  a  small  cape  or  point,  the  palm  trees 
persisted  right  down  to  the  strand.  They  clung 
tightly  to  the  coral  subsoil  and  stretched  their 
supple  bodies  out  over  the  surface  of  the  water, 
which  mirrored  back  the  reflection  with  a  pellucid 
clarity  that  made  Hendrik's  heart  throb  with  an- 
ticipation. 

On  the  farther  side  of  the  point  they  found  a 
small  stream  which  wriggled  forward  in  hiding  be- 
tween banks  covered  so  densely  with  bushes  and 
tall-stemmed  grass  as  to  appear  impenetrable. 

It  shivered  down  its  back  in  the  dancing 
light  like  a  young  girl  running  down  naked  to  the 
sea  to  bathe. 

Whilst  Daniel  stood  lost  in  contemplation  of 
56 


TOWARDS  THE  UNKNOWN        57 

all  this  untouched  beauty  now  viewed  for  the  first 
time  by  human  eyes,  Pieter  Goy  stooped  down  and 
tasted  the  water. 

It  was  fresh  and  tepid,  like  rain-water  that  had 
been  standing  in  a  barrel  all  night  in  the  garden. 

The  painter  pushed  his  way  along  the  bank. 
The  grass  stood  breast-high,  but  yielded  easily  to 
his  passage;  and  a  little  farther  up  the  slope  it 
became  less  tall.  Under  his  feet  the  coral  rock 
showed  plainly,  gleaming  through  a  thin  cover- 
ing of  close,  stiff  moss. 

He  beckoned  to  the  others.  Walking  in  Indian 
file  they  followed  the  stream  through  palm  trees 
and  long  grass  until  the  banks  dipped  into  a  gully 
dotted  with  blocks  of  coral. 

Here  the  stream  spread  itself  out  into  a  number 
of  dancing,  jingling  rivulets. 

Stepping  from  rock  to  rock  they  arrived  at  the 
other  side,  and  then  followed  the  bank  of  the  gully 
towards  its  extremity. 

Broad,  dark-green  trees  stretched  out  their 
arms  to  one  another  across  the  water.  Under- 
neath their  leaves — each  as  big  as  a  man's  breast 
— dangled  catkins,  twisting  and  shaking  in  the 
wind.  Some  fruit  also,  round  and  as  large  as 
cocoa-nuts,  shone  green  and  succulent  through  the 
gloom. 

"They're  bread-fruit  trees  1"  shouted  Daniel, 
who  had  studied  carefully  before  the  journey; 
"and  those  with  the  large  green  leaves,  flapping 
there  higher  up,  are  plantain-banana  palms. 


58  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Can't  you  see  the  clusters  close  in  against  the 
violet  trunks?  They  are  almost  ripe." 

Upon  reaching  the  plantain  palms  they  saw 
that  the  gully  was  shut  by  a  steep  bank  of  about 
the  height  of  a  man. 

It  had  evidently  once  formed  a  waterfall,  for 
the  earth  was  washed  away  completely,  leaving 
the  coral  rag  jutting  forth  in  knobs,  knots,  and 
knuckles. 

At  one  place  the  bank  jutted  out  over  their 
heads  like  a  roof.  The  hole  thus  formed  Daniel 
proposed  they  should  use  as  a  common  storehouse ; 
it  was  protected  by  the  wood  at  its  back,  the  river 
in  front,  and  was  not  far  from  the  sea. 

In  addition,  it  was  rainproof,  and  could  easily 
be  closed  by  a  wall  of  loose  coral  blocks  which 
were  scattered  about  in  large  numbers  everywhere. 
The  holes  in  the  wall  could  be  stopped  with  foli- 
age, so  that  when  complete  it  would  harmonize 
with  its  surroundings. 

They  began  at  once  to  shift  the  baggage.  Two 
by  two  they  carried  trunks  and  boxes  up  by  the 
way  they  had  come. 

When  all  was  at  last  in  order,  they  struck  work 
for  the  day. 

Pieter  Goy  made  a  fire  in  front  of  the  hole. 
Dry  grass,  dead  liana  cords,  and  touchwood  lay 
about  in  abundance. 

The  scented  smoke  poured  up  into  the  dark 
bread-fruit  trees,  the  flames  paling  before  the 
strong  white  light  of  day. 


TOWARDS  THE  UNKNOWN        59 

They  themselves  sat  in  the  shadow  under  the 
bank,  and  looked  out  along  the  gully  with  its  pale, 
waving  plantain  banners,  its  dark,  massive  bread- 
fruit foliage — towards  the  blue  sky,  in  which  a 
long,  narrow  white  cloud  floated,  bathed  in  light 
from  the  sun  even  now  sinking  behind  the  trees. 

Pieter  Goy's  excellent  coffee  steamed  up  to  them 
from  the  kettle,  hung  in  gypsy  fashion  between 
three  sticks  stuck  in  the  ground.  They  smoked 
the  last  pipefuls  of  their  good  Dutch  tobacco  as 
they  sat  thus  in  silence,  each  dreaming  of  the  won- 
derful things  he  was  to  snatch  from  the  heart  o-f 
long-suffering  Nature,  which  gazed  at  them  in 
wonder  with  its  brooding,  dark-green  eyes. 

Hendrik  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"What  was  that  laughing?" 

None  of  the  others  had  heard  anything,  and 
they  rebuked  him  irritably.  But  the  painter  con- 
tinued for  a  long  time  to  stare  in  the  direction  of 
the  tree-trunks  by  the  gully,  where  he  thought  he 
could  see  things  brown  and  living  among  the  foli- 
age ;  he  felt  certain  that  they  were  monkeys  come 
to  welcome  them,  watching  them  all  the  while  in- 
quisitively from  their  hiding-places  among  the 
trees. 

The  four  were  longing  to  commence  their  new 
life.  Before  the  sun  set  they  opened  the  baggage 
and  each  one  took  out  what  he  was  to  have  with 
him  during  his  solitary  wanderings  over  the  island. 

The  whole  thing  had  been  planned  long  before 
by  Daniel,  whose  brain  had  worked  at  it  as  if  it 


60  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

were  the  preparation  for  a  new  play,  instead  of 
the  consecration  of  a  new  humanity,  the  re-birth 
of  primitive  life  close  to  the  warm,  throbbing 
mother-heart  of  Nature. 

Biscuits  and  preserves  for  a  week,  a  saucepan 
for  cooking  water  and  vegetables,  spoons,  knives, 
and  matches,  a  blanket,  an  axe.  That  was  all. 
Jakob  Beer  carried  in  addition  his  violin  in  a 
case.  Finally,  each  was  given  the  diary  which 
Daniel,  as  leader  and  outfitter  of  the  expedition, 
demanded  should  be  kept,  the  contents  to  be 
Daniel's  unconditional  property. 

The  sun  set  in  purple  clouds  which  spread  like 
the  spots  on  a  tiger  skin  over  the  entire  western 
sky. 

No  twilight  smoothed  the  way  between  day  and 
night.  All  the  green  foliage  surrounding  them 
changed  abruptly  to-  dark  shadows  shutting  out 
the  light. 

The  thin  melody  of  dancing,  buzzing  insects 
rose  in  the  air;  the  distant  shriek  of  a  bird.  Un- 
known creatures  glowered  at  them  with  gleam- 
ing, phosphorescent  eyes  from  under  the  black 
cowl  of  Nature. 

These  were  the  last  things  they  saw  as  they 
fell  asleep  in  their  new  world,  lying  wrapped  in 
blankets  in  the  shelter  of  the  bank,  their  heads 
resting  on  their  knapsacks. 

They  were  wakened  by  the  cries  of  birds. 
The    light   blinked    alrea.dy    on    the    dancing 


TOWARDS  THE  UNKNOWN        61 

streams  in  the  gully.  Through  its  crystal  air- 
bell,  heaven  sparkled  like  a  huge  blue  diamond 
with  countless  facets. 

A  fresh  wind  breathed  up  the  gully  from  the 
sea.  The  air  was  so  pure  and  clear,  that  even 
the  most  distant  tree-tops  stood  out  sharply 
against  the  sky. 

Hendrik  Koort  sprang  up  and  lifted  his  voice 
in  song  towards  the  listening  trees,  which  now 
heard  human  music  for  the  first  time- 

Daniel,  who  was  no  vocalist,  leapt  about  like 
a  young  ram,  proud  of  his  work.  Was  it  not  he 
who  had  discovered  Sun  Island?  Now,  there- 
fore, he  took  posession  of  it  as  his  rightful 
property. 

Jakob  Beer  forgot  his  feelings  of  sea-sickness 
— he  had  dreamed  of  nothing  else  the  whole  night 
long.  Throwing  off  his  blanket  he  stretched  his 
crooked  body,  the  blazing  light  playing  full  upon 
him. 

Even  Pieter  Goy  neglected  to  dwell  on  ma- 
terial necessities,  and  stared  amazed  with  his 
round  blue  eyes  out  into  the  swelling  splendour. 

Hendrik  went  down  to  the  stream  to  fetch 
water  for  coffee,  but  forgot  it  and  took  a  bath 
instead. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  Goy  started  to  light 
the  fire  and  prepare  the  breakfast,  which  was  to 
be  their  last  meal  in  common. 

As  soon  as  they  finished  eating  and  drinking, 
Daniel  gave  the  signal  for  dispersal. 


62  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

They  all  took  off  their  old  civilized  clothes,  re- 
taining only  straw  hat,  shirt,  trousers,  socks,  and 
shoes;  it  was  their  intention  later  on  to  replace 
both  shoes  and  clothing  with  natural  garments  of 
their  own  manufacture. 

In  the  burning  heat  it  was  a  real  luxury  to  be 
free  of  superfluous  clothing.  The  painter  even 
went  so  far  as  to  remove  his  shirt  and  socks, 
which  he  put  in  his  knapsack. 

The  boxes,  which  contained  an  emergency  sup- 
ply of  food,  medicines,  and  similar  things,  were 
then  closed,  and  the  entrance  to  the  hole  carefully 
concealed.  From  whom  they  were  hiding  them, 
on  this  island  where  there  existed  neither  human 
beings  nor  other  large  animals,  was  doubtful. 
They  were  acting  more  from  old  European  force 
of  habit. 

They  climbed  up  on  top  of  the  bank  over  the 
hole.  From  here  they  could  see  towards  the 
south-east  through  the  ravine,  along  the  stream, 
as  it  gleamed  among  the  coral  rocks.  In  all 
other  directions  the  wood  shut  out  the  view. 
To  the  north-west  it  stood,  dense  as  a  hawthorn 
hedge,  with  bread-fruit  trees  waving  in  the  back- 
ground, while  here  and  there  a  single  cocoa-nut 
palm  stretched  out  its  long  leaflike  fingers  trem- 
ulously over  the  undergrowth.  Towards  the 
north-east  the  land  rose  abruptly  and  the  trees 
were  more  scattered;  while  to  the  south  a  gleam 
of  light  could  be  seen  among  the  tree-stems. 

According  to  Daniel's  plan  Jakob  Beer  should 


TOWARDS  THE  UNKNOWN        63 

choose  first,  Hendrik  Koort  next,  then  Daniel  him- 
self, and  last  of  all  Pieter  Goy.  Each  was  to  wan- 
der without  halting  until  he  found  the  place 
which,  in  his  opinion,  was  best  fitted  to  be  his 
future  abode. 

They  were  to  mark  their  path,  keep  exact  count 
of  the  days,  and  meet  together  each  Sunday  morn- 
ing at  the  storehouse  to  relate  their  experiences. 

Jakob  stood  so  long  hesitating  on  his  thin  legs 
before  making  up  his  mind,  that  his  knapsack  and 
violin  began  to  weigh  him  down.  At  last  he 
chose  to  go  towards  the  south-east,  down  the  hill 
along  the  gully,  with  which  he  was  already  ac- 
quainted and  behind  which  he  knew  he  would  find 
palm  trees. 

Hendrik  Koort,  on  the  contrary,  decided  at 
once  where  he  would  go.  There  to  the  northwest, 
where  the  undergrowth  was  densest,  the  wild,  jun- 
gle-like wood  drew  him  with  its  hidden  treasure. 

Daniel  chose  the  rising  land  to  the  north-east. 
He  intended  to  seek  the  island's  highest  point, 
from  which  he  could  survey  his  entire  kingdom. 

Pieter  Goy  looked  resignedly  towards  the 
south-west — the  point  of  the  compass  left  him  by 
the  other  three.  There  was  nothing  to  be  seen 
except  wood,  and  again,  wood.  Goy,  however, 
had  from  the  beginning  determined  to  live  near 
the  sea.  As  the  island  was  small,  it  must  be 
possible  to  reach  it  even  in  that  direction.  And, 
having  reached  the  sea,  he  would  follow  the  coast 
until  he  found  a  stream. 


64  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

They  shook  hands  all  round.  Daniel  stood 
looking  at  his  watch.  On  the  exact  stroke  of 
twelve  they  faced  about  and  marched,  each  in 
his  own  direction,  towards  the  unknown. 


VII  :     JAKOB   BEER 

JAKOB — little  Jakob   Beer,   with   the   long, 
pointed  nose  under  the  dark,  grown-together 
brows,   with   the   shy  look  in   the   dreamy 
eyes,   the   fixed   smile   on   the   thin  lips — pushed 
his  way,  knapsack  and  violin  on  his  crooked  back, 
through  the  tall  grass. 

It  scratched  his  thin,  artistic  fingers  as  'he 
pushed  it  aside.  It  pricked  his  cheeks  and 
whipped  his  nose;  but  he  felt  nothing.  In  the 
shadow  of  the  lofty  trees  he  walked  with  bowed 
head,  thinking  of  the  new  life  he  was  commencing. 

It  was  a  unique  experience  to  walk  thus,  listen- 
ing to  the  heart-beat  of  the  island.  Through 
the  closely  intertwined  tree-tops  overhead  even 
the  sun  could  not  penetrate.  The  air  was  hot, 
the  sweat  dripped  from  his  forehead  at  each  step 
he  took;  but  he  felt  nothing. 

He  walked  on  and  on  without  a  pause,  bending 
his  footsteps  to  the  will  of  the  forest,  following 
the  path  which  opened  before  him. 

His  soul,  floating  out  into  the  green  world, 
came  in  contact  with  the  rustling  melodies  of  the 
long,  narrow  leaves.  It  quivered  at  the  shrieks, 
of  warning  flung  by  one  brightly  coloured  bird- 
to  another  as  they  swept  hither  and  thither  high, 
up  under  the  mighty  heaven  of  foliage. 

65 


66  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Escaped  sun-rays  lay  roguishly  in  ambush  wait- 
ing for  an  opening  in  the  tree-crowns;  sprang 
forward  and  pressed  a  quivering  kiss  on  the 
gleaming  feathers.  The  bird  laughed,  turned 
towards  the  ray  in  its  flight,  and  stroked  with 
its  beak  the  place  caressed. 

At  last  Jakob  felt  tired,  and  sat  down  on  the 
grass,  with  his  back  resting  against  a  smooth 
white  trunk.  Slender  threads  hung  down  from 
the  dark  foliage,  twining  round  one  another, 
whirling  with  the  motion  of  the  wind  in  the  tree- 
tops,  as  they  swayed  to  and  fro  in  rhythmical 
tune  like  the  sound  of  water  rippling  over  moss- 
covered  stones. 

Fruit  broke  loose  high  above  his  head.  It 
glided  along  smooth  leaves  which  sought  in  vain 
to  capture  it,  broke  its  way  through  the  dense 
undergrowth,  and  fell  to  the  earth  with  a  splash, 
as  of  an  oar  dropping  among  reeds. 

He  thought  of  rising,  but  Solitude  held  him 
fast. 

Deep  harp-notes  rose  in  waves  from  the  earth 
around  him,  whilst  from  the  solar  rays  dancing 
above  the  tree-tops,  chained  to  their  green  peaks, 
clear  'cello  tones  vibrated  to  his  ear. 

Then  the  wind  began  to  stroke  the  violins. 
From  distant  palm  tops  the  'cello  mingled  its 
complaint.  Flutes  whistled  from  tense  bird- 
throats. 

The  notes  rang  together  in  a  mighty  harmony, 


JAKOB  BEER  67 

lifting  his  body  from  the  earth,  swaying  it  hither 
and  thither  on  waves  of  sound,  as  in  a  storm. 

He  awoke.  The  symphony  still  filled  his  ears ; 
but  it  seemed  to  him  now  to  be  the  sea  which  sang. 
Giant  waves  were  rocking  the  ship,  as  he  lay  in 
his  bunk.  Warnings  of  sea-sickness  again  an- 
nounced themselves,  while  the  green  light  under 
the  tree-tops  had  grown  chill  and  gloomy. 

He  looked  about  him.  Knapsack  and  violin- 
case  lay  at  his  side.  His  back  was  sore  from  con- 
tact with  the  hard  tree-stem.  The  birds  were 
silent.  Through  the  breathless  air  Solitude  sank 
slowly  towards  him,  filling  his  heart  with  dread. 
He  thought  of  God  and  of  Death,  and  lifted  his 
hands  'n  prayer  towards  the  Eternity  which  stared 
at  him  from  every  side  with  the  stiff,  unseeing  eye 
of  Corruption. 

How  long  he  had  slept  he  knew  not,  knew  only 
that  he  lay  on  an  island  which  floated  in  the  midst 
of  the  ocean  that  separated  the  worlds  into  parts 
and  mankind  into  races.  Not  even  the  sky  above 
there  behind  the  tree-tops  brought  a  greeting 
from  his  past.  The  sun  alone  was  the  same,  but 
now  it  had  probably  gone  to  rest. 

Shirt,  trousers — he  ran  his  hands  over  his  body, 
and  reminded  himself  of  the  sole  relics  from  the 
old  life,  garment  by  garment.  A  sudden  violent 
feeling  of  oppression  crushed  out  his  breath.  He 
sprang  up,  terrified,  and  began  to  run;  but  had 
scarcely  moved  when  he  came  to  a  halt  with 
bowed  head. 


68  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Was  it  not  in  search  of  Solitude,  this  same 
alluring  Solitude,  that  he  had  abandoned  civiliza- 
tion? And  now  that  it  stared  at  him  from  be- 
hind the  bushes  over  there,  he  was  afraid  of  its 
glance. 

Daniel  was  right.  It  was  the  knapsack,  his 
clothes,  things  belonging  to  the  old  life,  which 
bound  him.  Only  when  everything  belonging 
to  Society  had  been  given  back,  would  Solitude 
rouse  to  life  what  slumbered  deep  within;  the 
primeval  man  would  be  born  anew  in  all  his 
glory. 

Seizing  knapsack  and  violin  he  hurried  for- 
ward in  the  dying  light  of  day.  He  knew  well 
enough  that  the  moment  the  sun  sank  beneath  the 
horizon,  darkness  would  seize  everything  in  its 
treacherous  hands.  No  merciful  twilight  drew  its 
soft  fingers  over  the  eyes  here. 

He  sought  the  distant  flute-like  sound  he  had 
heard  in  his  dream.  He  guessed  it  must  be  the 
noise  made  by  the  passage  of  the  split-up  streams 
through  the  gully.  He  would  gain  its  bank  and 
there  seek  cover  for  the  night. 

But  it  was  wood,  never-ending  wood.  No 
clearing  was  to  be  seen.  Darkness  already 
threatened.  Finally  he  gave  up  his  search,  and 
examined  his  immediate  surroundings. 

Close  by  stood  a  dense  group  of  shrubs.  They 
stood  as  if  in  prayer,  with  long,  swaying  leaves. 
He  believed  they  were  young  plantain  palms. 
Their  stems  were  soft  and  elastic  to  the  touch, 


JAKOB  BEER  69 

and  their  leaves  stretched  out  over  the  ground 
like  a  sheltering  roof. 

He  laid  his  knapsack  on  the  ground  under  his 
head,  wrapped  himself  in  his  blanket,  although  the 
night  was  as  warm  as  a  hot  July  night  at  home, 
and  closed  his  eyes  beneath  the  slim,  swaying 
leaves. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  he  fell  asleep.  He 
lay  listening  to  the  numberless  mysterious  noises 
that  crept  out  of  the  dense,  black  void  surround- 
ing him.  But  at  last  Sleep  came  and  took  him  to 
herself. 


VIII:     HENDRIK   KOORT 

HENDRIK  KOORT  sang  as  he  marched 
along  on  his  short,  thick  legs,  which 
filled  his  black-striped  pants  almost  to 
bursting  point. 

With  his  wide  straw  hat  pressed  down  over  his 
flat  neck,  his  broad  bull's  forehead,  down  which 
the  perspiration  ran  in  streams,  pushed  forward 
as  if  to  butt  his  way  through  the  wilderness,  he 
ploughed  his  way  along  through  the  tall  grass 
covering  the  open  space  beyond  the  bank  of  the 
stream. 

When  he  reached  the  thicket  he  swung  his  axe 
to  right  and  left  and  hacked  his  way  forward. 

The  lianas  twisted  and  wriggled  in  his  firm 
grasp.  The  slim  aerial-roots  groaned  on  the 
damp  earth  beneath  his  clumsy  feet.  Broad, 
sappy  green  leaves  stuck  to  his  sweating  face  like 
clammy  hands.  Laughing  joyously  he  pulled 
them  off,  like  a  playful  young  elephant  out  for  its 
first  walk  by  itself. 

How  splendid  it  was  to  feel  all  this  opposition  I 
It  was  like  receiving  an  embrace  from  the  jungle 
nature  he  loved. 

In  his  fresh,  morning  ecstasy  he  flung  his  arms 
70 


HENDRIK  KOORT  71 

round  a  young  innocent  plant  of  different  appear- 
ance to  the  rest.  She  covered  her  slim  nakedness 
with  soft,  smooth  maiden  leaves  which  had  never 
before  encountered  the  eye  of  man. 

He  cooled  his  heated  forehead  against  her 
green  cheek,  which  she  shyly  withdrew;  then  re- 
leased her  from  his  embrace  and  ploughed  along 
farther. 

The  lianas  met  over  his  head  in  luxuriant  con- 
fusion beneath  the  tree-tops.  Long,  graceful 
palm-fans  stroked  their  fingers  over  each  other, 
and  stared  in  breathless  amazement  at  the  in- 
credible animal  which  burst  its  way  forward  be- 
neath tiiem. 

The  sunshine,  which  lay  behind  baking  the 
whole,  now  and  again  let  some  of  its  golden  fire 
slip  between  the  branches. 

Hendrik  halted  abruptly  with  open  mouth, 
drinking  in  all  the  green  that  suddenly  sprang  to 
life.  The  sun-rays  danced  on  the  sharp  leaf 
edges,  played  in  the  light,  or  sifted  through  to 
the  shadow,  where  they  became  transparent  and 
golden-green.  They  broke  into  sparks  on  the 
twigs,  and  lay  as  white  embers  on  all  that  was  flat. 
They  shone  red  through  half-ripened  fruit  as  it 
pressed  childishly  close  to  its  mother  stem. 

The  palm  fingers  stretched  themselves  in  the 
light,  sucking  it  into  their  cell-soul  until  it 
quivered;  then  turned  aside,  striving  to  avoid  the, 
burning  kiss  devouring  their  vitality. 

Then  the  tree-foliage,  taking  pity,   closed  to* 


72  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

gether  again — the  tough,  battered  old  tree-foli- 
age. 

Hendrik  stood  fascinated  by  the  scene.  He 
seized  his  sketch-book,  but  dropped  it  again  with 
a  sigh. 

He  could  not  do  it.  Not  yet.  The  impres- 
sions must  first  assemble  and  bear  fruit  in  his  soul. 

To  see,  to  feel,  to  sense,  with  all  the  pores  of 
his  being,  as  if  he  were  one  great  single  eye  that 
wandered  through  the  wood  gathering  the  first- 
fruits  of  its  untouched  beauty. 

He  walked  and  walked  continuously,  but  felt 
no  fatigue  in  the  hot,  damp  air. 

At  one  time  it  was  the  long  leaf-banners  of  a 
group  of  plantains  moving  in  and  out  like  gills, 
first  filling  themselves  with  air  and  then  sifting  it 
through  their  quivering  fibres.  Just  as  the  light 
shines  red  through  gills,  so  did  it  shine  green 
through  them,  clear  as  a  breaking  wave,  but  warm 
and  living  like  the  body  of  a  sun-drunken  grape. 

Another  time  it  was  the  reddening  fruit  as  it 
hung  like  enormous  drops  on  bent,  coiled  stalks. 

Yet  again:  cocoa-nut  palms  clawing  the  air, 
seeking  nourishment  for  their  heavy,  strong  off- 
spring which  clung  still  green  to  their  breasts. 

Or  the  heart-shaped  leaves  of  the  bread-fruit 
trees,  huge  as  shields,  stretched  forth  edgewise 
on  long,  straight  branches. 

He  saw  the  miraculous  interplay  of  all  created 
colours,  the  reciprocal  struggle  of  all  known 
shapes,  to  fill  space  and  shut  out  the  sun. 


HENDRIK  KOORT  73 

After  wandering  for  a  very  long  time  he  at 
length  began  to  feel  hungry,  and  sat  down  at  the 
foot  of  a  palm. 

The  wood  had  grown  thinner  but  at  the  same 
time  taller.  He  could  now  see  a  little  way  ahead 
throujgh  the  tree-stems;  and  the  ground,  which 
hitherto  had  sloped  upwards,  now  appeared 
smooth  and  level. 

He  took  out  food  from  his  knapsack,  lay  down 
on  his  back,  and  gazed,  fascinated,  up  at  the  leaf- 
heaven. 

Some  birds  sat  up  there  flapping  their  blue- 
green  feathers;  they  looked  down  inquisitively  at 
him  as  he  ate. 

When  he  turned  from  them  to  take  another 
biscuit,  he  saw  something  living  sitting  by  his  side, 
looking  at  him  with  fixed,  glassy  eyes. 

It  was  small  and  thin  and  had  a  pointed  head. 
Hendrik  drew  his  legs  away.  He  did  not  like 
its  stare.  It  was  not  a  snake.  No,  no — it  was 
a  snake!  Daniel  had  assured  them  that  there 
were  no  snakes  to  be  found  on  the  island.  And 
yet  it  crept  along  the  ground,  and  it  was  more 
than  half  a  yard  long — and  then  it  had  those 
big,  glassy  eyes  with  their  nasty,  insolent  expres- 
sion. 

Hendrik  tried  to  hiss  it  away.  But  the  beast 
merely  blinked  slyly  as  if  it  found  him  funny. 

Then  he  clapped  his  hands;  but  now  its  look 
became  vicious. 

It  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  the  creature 


74  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

had  never  seen  a  man  before.  Of  course  it  was 
only  inquisitive,  exactly  as  he  was,  too. 

The  explanation  relieved  him.  He  began  to 
discuss  the  situation  with  it. 

"These  stumps  here — they're  only  human  legs, 
your  lordship.  They  are  perhaps  a  trifle  too 
thick;  but  hang  it,  you  yourself  are  not  any  too 
pretty,  with  those  horrid  little  knobs  all  down  your 
back." 

The  beast  blinked  with  its  green  eyes,  as  though 
it  understood  what  he  said. 

"What  is  it  exactly  you  are  staring  at?  Is  it 
the  food  you  are  jealous  of?" 

He  obligingly  threw  a  piece  of  biscuit  to  it. 
But  the  thing  merely  revolved  its  eyes  in  its  head, 
as  if  to  say:  Good  heavens,  what  next? 

Its  pertinacity  annoyed  him;  but  when  all  his 
attempts  at  displacing  it  failed,  he  began  to  feel 
really  uncomfortable,  especially  as  the  thing 
wriggled  the  knobs  on  its  back  and  made  signs  of 
coming  nearer. 

He  packed  his  food  hastily  together  and 
moved  away  to  find  a  better  place.  But  when 
he  looked  back  he  discovered  the  animal  running 
after  him  on  its  small  curved  legs. 

Then  it  was  not  a  serpent  after  all;  neverthe- 
less it  was  a  nasty,  untrustworthy,  and  offensive 
creature. 

Hendrik  had  always  disliked  reptiles.  The 
incident  affected  him  so  disagreeably  that  he 


HENDRIK  KOORT  75 

started  running  as  fast  as  he  could  through  the 
bushes. 

When  at  last  he  stopped  breathless  and  turned, 
the  creature  had  disappeared;  but  his  heart  was 
beating  more  violently  than  usual.  He  felt  very 
sure  that  he  did  not  wish  his  new  acquaintance  to 
come  along  and  glower  at  him  while  he  lay  asleep. 

The  ground  sloped  evenly  and  the  undergrowth 
grew  less  dense.  It  became  suddenly  a  forest  of 
palms  and  foliferous  trees  which  he  did  not  recog- 
nize. Their  branches  ran  diagonally  upwards 
and  crossed  one  another  in  a  curiously  awkward 
manner. 

Slim  palms  stretched  their  curved,  scaly  sterns 
aloft  in  graceful  arches.  Everywhere  the  lianas 
ran  up  and  down,  in  and  out,  like  rigging  and 
rope-ladders. 

He  tried  whether  they  could  bear.  Some 
broke,  but  others  were  old  and  tough,  resembling 
intertwined  bamboos.  They  held  all  right.  He 
could  pull  himself  up  by  his  hands. 

A  splendid  idea  occurred  to  him.  He  must 
make  use  of  the  solution  offered  him  by  Nature 
itself.  He  would  sleep  like  a  second  Robinson 
Crusoe  up  in  one  of  the  tall  trees  with  the  criss- 
crossed branches.  There  at  any  rate  he  would 
be  certain  of  the  reptile  not  reaching  him. 

He  chose  a  tall,  well-grown  tree.  It  was  as 
hung  with  dry,  sluggish  lianas  as  a  door-post  with 
spiders'  webs.  At  its  foot  lay  a  wind-felled 


76  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

tree  with  a  half-rotten  trunk  overgrown  with  long- 
leaved  creepers  smelling  nauseatingly  of  vanilla. 

He  stepped  up  on  the  trunk  and  clambered  aloft 
by  means  of  the  liana  cords,  past  the  thick  nether- 
most branches  which  were  white  with  bird  drop- 
pings. 

Higher  up,  where  the  light  showed  from  above, 
he  found  a  corner  formed  by  two  crossed  branches 
as  thick  as  human  arms,  surrounded  by  and  inter- 
laced with  lianas  and  a  yellowish-leaved  creeper 
which  clung  with  ivy-like  tenacity. 

He  swung  himself  in  against  the  trunk,  sat 
down  in  the  fork  where  the  branches  met,  and 
pulling  the  lianas  hanging  on  the  other  side  to- 
wards him,  severed  them  with  his  axe,  twisting 
them  round  about  and  in  between  the  intercross- 
ing branches  until  they  formed  a  closely  woven 
trellis-work,  impenetrable  to  the  eye.  Then  he 
fastened  the  lianas  to  the  trunk,  so  that  the  whole 
resembled  an  elongated  basket,  out  of  which  it 
would  be  impossible  to  tumble. 

He  had  thus  constructed  an  excellent  hammock. 
Over  his  head  also  was  a  roof  of  branches.  To- 
morrow he  would  cover  them  with  plantain  leaves 
to  serve  as  a  shelter  in  rainy  weather. 

Only  the  approach  was  awkward.  But  that 
could  easily  be  remedied.  He  would  make  a 
rope  ladder  of  the  lianas  which  had  already  borne 
his  weight. 

He  must  hurry.  The  sun  was  low  down.  He 
hacked  at  the  toughest  cords  he  could  find, — it 


HENDRIK  KOORT  77 

was  almost  impossible  to  cut  through  them, — 
these  he  wound  crosswise  between  the  two  lianas 
up  which  he  had  swarmed. 

The  work  was  rough  and  ready ;  the  steps  were 
insecure;  they  slipped  down  when  he  trod  on 
them;  but  it  could  all  be  improved  later. 

Proud  of  his  achievement,  he  descended  after 
his  knapsack,  clambered  again  aloft,  spread  his 
blanket  over  the  liana  mattress,  placed  the  knap- 
sack under  his  head  as  a  pillow,  tied  it  fast,  rolled 
himself  in  his  blanket,  thought  with  satisfaction 
that  the  animal  with  the  glassy  eyes  and  the  horrid 
knobs  on  its  back  could  not  come  near  him,  and, 
tired  out,  fell  asleep. 


IX  :    DANIEL   HOOCH 

DANIEL  HOOCH  thrust  out  his  chest, 
straightened  his  back,  and  marched  with 
head  erect  through  the  tall  grass,  with- 
out once  looking  round  after  the  others. 

All  his  life  he  had  been  full  of  confidence  in 
himself;  and  now  that  the  matter  in  hand  was  to 
realize  the  most  beautiful  dream  of  his  life,  he 
felt  like  a  young  Adam  about  to  go  out  into  the 
world  and  subject  it  to  his  will. 

For  him  alone  the  palm-trees  waved.  For 
him  the  closely  packed  bread-fruit  trees  spread 
their  cooling  shadows  over  the  hot  earth.  For 
him  gleamed  the  reddening  fruit  as  it  hung  dang- 
ling aloft  in  rows. 

He  walked  slowly,  so  that  nothing  might  escape 
the  mastery  of  his  glance,  halted  every  few 
minutes  to  examine  trees  and  bushes;  and,  when- 
ever he  succeeded  in  recognizing  them  from  his 
preparatory  studies,  felt  himself  richer  and 
stronger.  But,  unfortunately,  most  of  what  he 
saw  was  utterly  strange,  and  that  which  he  did 
know  understood  only  too  well  how  to  defy  his 
mastery,  with  a  real  and  living  personality  which 
he  would  have  deemed  impossible. 

Daniel  nodded  sagely  to  himself.  It  should 
all  end  by  serving  him. 

78 


DANIEL  HOOCH  79 

The  ground  kept  rising,  slowly,  persistently. 
The  perspiration  ran  down  his  cheeks  in  the  hot 
air;  but  he  thought  of  nothing  but  reaching  the 
highest  point,  from  which  he  would  be  able  to 
view  the  island,  and  with  his  glance  fathom  the 
borders  of  the  limitless  sea  on  every  side. 

The  wood  became  denser  and  denser.  The 
foliage  shut  out  the  sky  like  a  heavy  blanket. 
The  lianas  writhed  in  and  out,  now  tensed  like 
springs,  now  slack  and  crooked,  like  loose  cords, 
absorbing  sound  and  strangling  echo  as  in  a  room 
crowded  with  too  much  furniture. 

He  was  forced  to  lower  his  glance,  defend  him- 
self with  arms  and  feet  against  long-limbed 
shrubs  which  flipped  his  ears  with  their  small 
cheeky  leaves. 

Large,  red,  cup-shaped  flowers  jumped  and 
swayed  like  bells  when  he  pulled  at  the  creeper 
cords;  but  they  did  not  fall. 

The  exhalations  from  the  trees  and  from  the 
ground  flowed  together  in  a  half-decayed  odour, 
causing  him  a  tight  sensation  at  the  chest  and  hin- 
dering his  breathing. 

At  last  he  came  to  a  clearing.  A  patch  of 
white-glowing  sunshine  lay  right  in  front  of  him; 
and  behind  it  stood  that  which  he  had  long  been 
seeking — a  lordly  cocoa-nut  palm,  bowing  its 
supple  stem  in  greeting  towards  him,  playing  in 
the  light  with  its  glistening  leaf-fingers. 

High  up  in  the  top  he  could  see  great  green 
clusters  gleaming.  He  stood  for  a  long  while, 


80  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

lost  in  admiration  for  this  giant  of  the  jungle. 

How  grand,  how  arrogant,  and  yet  how  mild 
in  its  fruitful  power,  standing  in  the  midst  of  the 
flaming  sunshine. 

See  how  it  arched  its  noble  crown,  shading  and 
protecting  the  fruits  of  its  body,  whilst  with  its 
ever-moving  fingers  it  wafted  cool  air  to  their 
cheeks,  whispering  loving  words  down  upon  their 
heads;  crooning  at  their  cradles  and  sucking  up 
sap  into  its  slender  body  from  deep  down  under 
the  earth  so  as  to  pump  nourishment  through  its 
thin  arterial  branches  to  the  green  shells,  whose 
hard  crust  defied  even  the  power  of  the  sun. 

Thus  also  would  his  poet's  mind  draw  inspira- 
tion from  the  hidden  springs  in  this  luxuriant 
nature,  of  which  no  human  eye  before  had  drunk; 
in  the  still  majesty  of  solitude  he  would  give 
life  to  his  dreams,  that  round  them  might  be 
formed  poetic  crystals,  the  like  of  which  had 
never  before  seen  the  light. 

The  sun  stood  high  in  the  heavens  and  com- 
pelled him  to  seek  the  shade. 

He  lay  down  at  the  foot  of  the  lonely  palm, 
and  stared  up  its  smooth  form  until  thought  and 
recollection  left  him. 

He  was  awakened  by  the  buzzing  of  mosqui- 
toes in  his  ears.  One  had  already  stung  him  on 
the  hand.  They  were  larger  than  those  he  was 
acquainted  with  from  home;  but  their  buzzing 
sounded  so  familiar  that  a  smile  came  to  his  lips. 


DANIEL  HOOCH  81 

The  sun  had  crossed  right  over  the  clearing,  and 
now  stood  glowing  at  the  edge  of  the  trees  where 
the  wood  again  thickened. 

He  sprang  up  and  walked  across  the  clearing 
through  the  dry,  stubborn  grass. 

He  was  thirsty,  but,  having  nothing  drinkable 
with  him,  was  compelled  to  hasten  on. 

And  the  farther  he  went  the  more  thirsty  he 
became.  His  tongue  stuck  to  his  palate.  With 
lowered  head  he  plunged  along,  his  one  consum- 
ing thought  being  to  find  water. 

His  poetic  fantasies  had  long  since  been  for- 
gotten when  at  last  he  heard  tinkling  stream- 
sounds. 

A  brook  hurried  forward  through  a  split  in  the 
cliff.  It  reached  the  edge  and  threw  itself  joy- 
fully down  the  cliff  side.  At  the  base  it  first 
scattered  in  bubbling  foam,  then  collected  into  a 
basin,  finally  flowing  slowly  onwards  as  a  small, 
sedate  stream. 

He  flung  himself  down  and  sucked  up  the  clear, 
cool  water.  Then  he  followed  the  cliff  edge, 
dotted  with  moss  and  some  plants  resembling 
ferns,  until  he  arrived  at  an  open  space  which 
sloped  evenly  downwards  towards  the  east. 

Here  he  could  see  out  over  the  tops  of  the 
trees  clothing  the  slopes  of  the  hill.  Beneath  him 
lay  the  shimmering  surface  of  the  lagoon,  crystal- 
clear  and  green ;  beyond  it  the  swell,  frothing  over 
the  coral  reef.  Farthest  out  of  all,  the  blue 


82  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

ocean  stretched  its  smooth  body  towards  the  line 
of  the  horizon  which,  veiled  in  mist,  glided  into 
the  sky. 

Northwards  the  rocky  hill  rose  sharply.  Up 
there  strutted  some  tall  trees  which  were  unknown 
to  him. 

The  summit  called  to  him.  Although  tired 
and  hot,  he  obeyed  and  struggled  upwards. 

From  the  hill's  naked  crown,  cooled  by  the  fresh 
breeze  from  the  sea,  he  saw,  in  a  glorious  panor- 
ama, the  whole  island,  with  its  woods  and  palm 
groves,  clearings  and  deeply  indented  coast-line. 
Whichever  way  he  turned,  the  sea  stared  back  at 
him  with  its  calm,  dark-blue  glance. 

He  loosened  his  hat  and  swept  it  dramatically 
round  the  horizon. 

"I  will  live  here,"  was  his  first  thought  when 
he  again  arrived  at  the  clearing — "here,  with  my 
back  to  the  precipice  and  my  face  towards  the  ris- 
ing sun,  I  will  woo  slumber  night  after  night." 

He  lay  down  on  the  slope  where  the  long,  deep 
shadows  from  the  wood  reached.  His  gaze 
swam  out  into  the  endless  blue.  His  mind  lost 
itself  in  awe  and  thankfulness,  returning  to  reality 
only  when  he  began  to  feel  hungry.  It  was  now 
late  in  the  afternoon,  and  he  had  eaten  nothing 
since  breakfast. 

He  opened  his  knapsack  and  ate  voraciously, 
his  eyes  at  the  same  time  seeking  a  suitable  dwell- 
ing-place. 


DANIEL  HOOCH  83 

The  cliff  which  flanked  the  place  where  he  sat 
was  about  twelve  feet  deep,  its  face  covered  with 
moss  and  liana  creepers.  At  the  bottom  of  the 
cliff  was  a  narrow  terrace.  He  grasped  the  lianas, 
swung  himself  down,  and  saw  that  farther  down 
lay  still  another  terrace.  He  now  lost  sight  of 
the  mountain  side,  and  became  shut  in  by  the  thick 
underwood  of  large-leafed  bushes  and  creepers, 
of  which  the  former  seemed  somehow  familiar 
to  him. 

Judging  by  the  leaves  they  were  the  wild  yams 
of  which  he  had  read,  the  root  of  which  was  an 
excellent  food. 

Delighted  with  this  important  discovery,  he 
climbed  up  once  more  to  the  top  of  the  cliff,  and 
began  at  once  to  construct  a  home. 

Daniel  all  his  life  had  disliked  being  cramped 
or  shut  in.  The  steep  cliff  side  therefore  particu- 
larly attracted  him.  He  himself  could  swarm 
down  whenever  he  wished  to  the  terrace;  but 
once  he  had  loosened  the  lianas  and  pulled  them 
up  at  night  like  a  rope-ladder,  nobody  could  ap- 
proach him  from  behind.  The  place  resembled  a 
fortress. 

He  collected  stones  and  lumps  of  rock,  which 
lay  round  about  in  large  numbers,  built  a  wall 
at  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and  stuffed  up  the  crevices 
with  earth.  Then  he  added  two  side-walls,  also 
of  earth  and  stones,  so  that  the  house  lay  open 
to  the  east,  with  a  view  over  the  water. 


84  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

The  sun  was  now  so  low  down  in  the  sky  that 
the  shadows  of  the  trees  to  the  south  stretched 
right  up  to  his  dwelling-place. 

He  covered  the  ground  with  leaves  and  dry 
moss,  stretched  his  knapsack  from  wall  to  wall 
for  a  roof,  placed  a  few  stones  round  the  edges 
to  hold  it  in  position,  and  lay  down  at  last  to  rest, 
wrapped  in  his  blanket. 

He  was  utterly  tired-out;  but  what  did  it 
matter?  Proud  and  happy  in  the  consciousness 
of  his  mastery,  confident  that  none  of  the  others 
had  found  such  a  good  refuge  as  his,  he  fell  asleep 
as  King  of  the  Promised  Isle,  facing  the  direction 
in  which  the  sun  must  rise. 

He  awoke  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  bathed  in 
sweat  and  half  eaten  by  mosquitoes.  He  swore, 
scratched,  and  defended  himself  against  the  evil 
creatures,  as  they  hung  buzzing  round  his  ears  in 
his  dark  prison. 

It  was  some  time  before  he  recollected  that  he 
was  the  Lord  of  the  Island.  But  once  he  had 
quite  grasped  the  thought,  he  became  calm  and 
thankful,  and  went  to  sleep  again. 


X  :    PIETER   GOY 

PIETER  GOY  bound  the  knapsack  comfort- 
ably on  his  broad  back,  and  resignedly 
plodded  off  through  the  thick  wood,  in  the 
direction  allotted  to  him. 

It  was  advisable  to  put  his  best  foot  foremost, 
he  thought,  so  as  to  have  plenty  of  time  to  choose 
a  safe  place  for  dinner  and  arrange  himself  as 
comfortably  as  possible  for  the  night. 

He  peered  doubtfully  up  at  the  tree-tops  from 
under  the  shadow  of  his  broad  straw  hat. 

He  wondered  whether  they  would  be  reduced 
to  eating  those  big  red  tubers  hanging  up  there 
among  the  long,  curious  catkins.  If  they  had 
only  been  cocoa-nuts  they  would  at  all  events,  have 
known  what  they  were  consuming. 

When  he  had  progressed  some  distance,  he  saw 
a  plantain  palm.  A  cluster  of  green  bananas 
hung  down  below  the  leaves. 

"I'll  have  a  try  with  the  axe,"  he  thought,  and 
chopped  at  the  trunk;  the  cluster  fell  at  the  first 
blow. 

He  pulled  off  all  the  bananas.  They  were 
small  and  green.  He  peeled  one  and  thrust  in 
his  teeth.  It  was  juicy  enough,  but  neither  sweet 
nor  palatable. 

"Never  mind,"  he  thought,  "I'll  boil  them  like 
85 


86  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

cauliflower.  I  know,  at  any  rate,  that  they  are 
not  poisonous,  and  I  can't  afford  to  despise  any- 
thing as  long  as  the  future  is  uncertain." 

He  put  them  in  his  knapsack,  and  walked  on. 

A  gust  of  wind  blew  the  tree-tops  apart,  so 
that  light  streamed  through  the  foliage.  The 
little  green  parrots  flapped  and  revelled  at  the 
top,  shrieking  lustily  towards  the  sun. 

He  looked  up,  but  the  sun's  rays  blinded  him, 
and  he  could  see  nothing. 

"Hang  the  sun!"  he  thought;  "how  can  I  shoot 
with  the  glare  in  my  eyes?" 

Then  he  suddenly  remembered  that  meat-eat- 
ing was  forbidden,  and  that  his  gun  lay  at  the 
depot.  So  much  for  that! 

The  perspiration  literally  poured  from  him, 
owing  to  the  speed  at  which  he  was  marching, 
smashing  and  crushing  all  slender  plants  in  his 
reckless  progress. 

"Oh,  for  a  bath!"  he  thought,  mopping  his 
brow. 

But  one  thing  was  certain;  he  would  not  be 
content  until  he  had  found  his  way  to  the  sea. 
He  could  not  do  without  it.  He  had  lived  by 
the  water  from  his  earliest  childhood  in  Groen- 
ingen,  and,  since  then,  in  Amsterdam.  If  the 
land  on  which  he  now  stood  was  not  an  island — 
then  he  wished  he  had  stayed  at  home. 

In  fact,  on  the  whole 1 

Well,  well,  it  was  no  use  speculating  more  on 
that.  Besides,  Daniel  knew  best,  after  all. 


PIETER  GOY  87 

Besides,  there  were  no  large  beasts  of  prey, 
such  as  lions  or  tigers  or  apes,  nor  were  there 
serpents  on  the  island.  Daniel  had  taken  his 
oath  on  it.  So  much  for  that! 

He  looked  at  his  watch,  and  tried  it  to  see 
if  he  had  remembered  to  wind  it  up.  It  would 
not  do  to  forget  out  here,  where  there  was  no 
Castle  clock  to  set  it  by. 

As  far  as  that  went,  the  sun  shone  here  the 
whole  day  long;  he  could  reckon  from  that.  So 
much  for  that! 

What  nice  soft  moss  that  was  on  the  tree- 
trunks  !  He  would  use  something  of  the  sort  for 
his  bed.  For  a  good  soft  bed  was  one  of  the 
most  important  things  to  see  about. 

Then  he  began  thinking  about  how  he  would 
make  his  house. 

See  all  those  great  broad  plantain  leaves — he 
would  use  them  for  roofing.  They  were  quite 
smooth  to  the  touch,  and  thick.  The  rain 
would  run  off  them  as  if  they  were  oilcloth.  And 
the  light  would  shine  sufficiently  through  them, 
so  that  it  would  be  unnecessary  to  make  windows. 
The  only  difficulty  was,  how  to  keep  out  the 
mosquitoes  and  flies,  and  all  such  winged  rep- 
tiles,— of  which  there  were,  of  course,  swarms 
here,  with  all  this  sun, — so  that  he  could  sit  and 
eat  in  peace,  or  meditate  over  a  pipeful  of  tobacco. 

Yes,  for  surely  there  were  real  tobacco  plants 
on  the  island? 

Smoking;    that    he    would    never    give    up! 


THE  PROMISED  ISLE 


Even  if  they  had  to  live  with  Nature  and  in 

solitude,  and  be  away  from  all  worry  and 

Why  shouldn't  they  be  allowed  to  have  an  occa- 
sional smoke?  Daniel  had  strange  ideas  in  this 
respect. 

Even  if  he  had  to  smoke  hay  or  withered 
chestnut  leaves — smoke  he  would,  somehow. 
No — he  wasn't  spoilt!  So  much  for  that! 

Pieter  suddenly  felt  hungry.  He  found  a  tree- 
trunk  where  there  was  plenty  of  shade,  sat  down 
comfortably,  with  his  back  against  it,  and  un- 
packed his  food. 

Pieter  Goy  also,  while  he  was  eating,  received 
a  visit  from  the  queer  animal  with  the  glassy 
eyes  and  bumps  on  its  back. 

After  taking  a  good  look  at  it,  he  made  an 
encouraging  noise  to  it  with  his  lips;  but  the 
creature  did  not  stir. 

"You  shall  move,  see  if  you  don't!  Can  you 
go  backwards  then,  goggle-eyes?"  he  said,  lash- 
ing out  at  it  with  his  stick. 

The  giant  lizard  removed  its  gaze,  turned 
bluish  along  its  spine,  and  vanished  under  the 
hollow  tree-stump  where  it  lived. 

Parrots  flapped  high  up  over  his  head,  shriek- 
ing scandal  to  one  another. 

Pieter  Goy  thought  of  the  crows  at  home, 
collecting  in  a  flock  on  the  farmer's  field  in  spring. 
His  heart  softened,  and  his  eyes  became  watery. 

He  got  up,  packed  his  knapsack,  and  hastened 
on  his  way. 


PIETER  GOY  89 

When  he  had  walked  for  about  half  an  hour, 
listening  all  the  while  in  the  silence  for  the  ripple 
of  water,  and  peering  in  all  directions, — he 
judged  by  the  sun  that  he  was  still  going  towards 
the  south-west,  and  the  island  could  not  be  so 
big  but  that  he  would  soon  reach  the  sea, — 
the  wood  ahead  suddenly  appeared  much 
denser. 

Soon  afterwards  he  found  himself  at  the 
borders  of  a  thicket  of  thin,  very  long,  and  very 
straight  stems.  They  were  grey-green  in  colour, 
and  their  leaves  were  narrow  and  pointed  like 
arrows. 

He  tried  to  break  one  of  them,  but  it  was  too 
tough  and  whipped  back  again  when  released. 

Then  he  saw  that  the  stem  was  divided  into  a 
number  of  joints  of  equal  length,  like  the  canes  at 
home.  And  suddenly  it  struck  him  that  they 
were  real,  living,  fresh,  wild  bamboo  plants 
standing  there,  crowded  in  a  mighty  thicket 
through  which  his  fat  body  could  not  imaginably 
squeeze. 

Pieter  Goy  saw  at  once  how  he  would  build 
his  house.  He  cut  off  a  couple  of  bamboos  with 
his  axe  and  tried  them  in  his  hand.  Yes,  they 
were  excellent. 

He  followed  the  outskirts  of  the  thicket,  pay- 
ing close  attention  to  the  direction. 

When  he  had  passed  the  thicket  the  ground 
began  to  slope  suddenly  downwards. 

"The  coast  at  last!"  he  thought,  and  followed 


QO  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

the  slope,  until  a  loud,  monotonous  noise  broke 
the  silence. 

He  halted  and  listened. 

Yes,  it  was  water  splashing  over  there. 

He  walked  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  and 
stood  a  moment  later  at  'the  base  of  a  hollowed- 
out  chalk  cliff,  down  which  the  water  poured  in 
broad,  cooling  streams. 

Goy  went  foward  and  tasted  it.  It  was  de- 
liciously  fresh. 

He  stood  still  a  moment,  enjoying  the  fresh 
coolness  which  breathed  out  from  the  wall  of 
water. 

Then  he  threw  down  his  knapsack,  flung  off 
his  shirt,  trousers,  and  socks,  leaped  in  under  the 
cataract,  and  took  a  natural  shower-bath  until  his 
very  joints  shivered. 

Snorting  and  panting  he  ran  out  into  the  sun, 
put  on  his  straw  hat,  and  in  a  couple  of  minutes 
was  as  dry  as  a  bone. 

"I  will  live  near  here,"  he  thought,  "so  that  I 
can  take  my  morning  bath,  as  I  used  to  at  home, 
without  being  afraid  of  crocodiles  and  sharks  and 
other  sea  reptiles." 

Pieter  Goy  followed  the  course  of  the  stream 
formed  by  the  waterfall.  It  hopped  along,  just 
like  the  first  one  they  had  seen,  over  stone  and 
blocks  of  coral,  forcing  him  to  jump  and  wade. 

Less  than  ten  minutes  later  he  saw  the  lagoon 
shining  through  the  tree-stems. 

When  he  approached  he  found  himself  on  a  flat 


PIETER  GOY  91 

and  narrow  strand  curving  round  a  tiny  bay. 
The  latter  was  situated  at  the  base  of  a  larger 
bay,  squeezed  in  beween  two  wooded  tongues  of 
land,  which  shot  out  into  the  sea,  one  overlapping 
the  other,  like  moles  of  a  harbour.  Scarcely  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards  separated  the  two  points 
and  the  water  was  quite  smooth. 

Over  the  extreme  low-lying  end  of  the  one 
tongue  of  land  he  could  see  out  into  the  blue 
lagoon,  with  the  foam-belt  of  the  coral  reef  in  the 
background. 

Pieter  Goy  was  as  happy  as  if  he  had  won  a 
prize  in  a  lottery.  He  wasted  no  time  looking  at 
the  view.  He  thought  only  of  the  fish  he  could 
catch,  and  suddenly  felt  quite  at  home. 

He  walked  along  the  coast  to  the  base 
of  the  bay,  and  thence  up  among  the  tree-trunks, 
until  he  reached  the  cliff. 

He  followed  this  until  he  could  see  the  water- 
fall and  stream,  with  the  bay  on  the  farther 
side,  examined  the  face  of  the  cliff  carefully,  and 
found  at  last  a  place  where  the  ground  was  dry, 
level,  and  free  from  roots. 

"Here  Pieter  Goy's  house  shall  be!"  he  said  to 
himself  as  he  threw  down  his  knapsack;  went 
then,  without  wasting  a  minute,  back  to  the  water- 
fall, from  which  it  was  but  ten  minutes'  walk  to 
the  bamboo  grove. 

Once  there  he  let  fly  with  the  axe  until  the 
sweat-drops  literally  leaped  from  him  and  his 
saturated  shirt  stuck  to  his  back  every  time  he 


92  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

bent  down.  But  not  for  a  moment  did  he  slacken 
his  exertions. 

He  took  back  with  him  as  many  bamboos  as  he 
could  carry.  He  then  bored  a  hole  about  level 
with  his  head  in  the  face  of  the  cliff,  having  first 
cleared  it  of  moss  and  plants,  and  hammered  the 
ground  level  with  the  blunt  end  of  his  axe. 

Then  he  chose  one  bamboo  stick  three  yards 
long  and  two  shorter  ones. 

The  short  ones  he  fixed  diagonally  in  the 
ground  so  that  their  tops  crossed  one  another. 

He  bound  the  ends  together  with  the  strap  of 
his  knapsack,  stuck  one  end  of  the  long  bamboo 
into  the  hole  in  the  chalk  wall,  and  laid  the  other 
end  in  the  cross  formed  by  the  two  shorter  sticks. 

There  was  no  time  to  make  the  walls  of  bam- 
boos. That  he  could  do  on  the  morrow.  He 
contented  himself  with  a  single  stick  up  the  middle 
of  each  side. 

Then  he  plucked  some  of  the  largest  plantain 
leaves  he  could  find,  and,  beginning  from  the  top, 
laid  a  thick  layer  down  each  side.  He  made  the 
leaves  fast  at  the  bottom  with  stones  so  that  no 
reptile  should  creep  in  during  the  night. 

He  stretched  the  canvas  of  the  knapsack  be- 
tween the  two  cross  bamboos  as  a  door.  A  space 
was  left  at  the  bottom,  but  he  covered  it  with 
plantain  leaves.  He  left  the  small  triangle  at 
the  top  uncovered,  so  that  light  and  air  could 
enter. 

He  stood  for  a  moment  admiring  his  work. 


PIETER  GOY  93 

Then  he  lit  a  fire  before  the  hut,  and  cooked  a 
delicious  soup  of  biscuits,  tinned  food,  and  fresh 
bananas  he  had  plucked  on  his  way. 

Whilst  he  sat  eating,  he  heard  whistling  and 
rustling  noises  in  the  tops  of  the  tall  trees  be- 
hind him. 

Apparently  a  large  flock  of  birds  were  settling 
for  the  night  in  the  branches;  but  the  noise 
sounded  less  like  birds  calling  than  like  rats  fight- 
ing or  monkeys  quarrelling. 

He  knew  not  what  it  was  and  did  not  care  suffi- 
ciently to  get  up  and  investigate. 

Parrots  mixed  up  in  the  disturbance  with  their 
hoarse  shrieks.  He  thought  again  of  the  crows 
at  home,  settling  in  the  trees  towards  evening,  and 
his  heart  once  more  whispered  regret.  But  only 
for  a  moment. 

Well-fed,  tired,  and  satisfied  with  himself,  he 
lay  down  on  his  soft  couch  of  moss,  wrapped  in 
his  blanket. 

It  became  still  in  the  tree-tops.  Finally  only 
the  distant  splash  of  the  little  waterfall  could  be 
heard.  It  reminded  him  of  the  water-mills  at 
Groeningen  and  soon  lulled  him  into  a  deep,  still 
slumber. 


XI:    THE   FIRST   MEETING 

THE  first  Sunday  on  the  island  dawned 
threatening  and  chilly. 
It  had  rained  in  the  night,  and  Daniel 
in  his  castle  was  roused  by  the  water  dripping 
on  to  his  face  through  the  canvas  of  the  knap- 
sack. 

The  sun  was  just  about  to  rise.  The  advanc- 
ing light  of  dawn  fought  with  the  heavy  rain- 
clouds  drifting  across  the  face  of  the  ocean. 

The  Lord  of  the  Island  shivered  with  cold, 
and  made  haste  to  creep  outside  and  stir  up  the 
circulation  in  his  stiff  limbs. 

Whilst  he  strode  to  and  fro  on  the  cleared 
place  before  his  "castle,"  his  thoughts  went  back 
to  the  little  murky  canal  beneath  his  window 
in  Amsterdam,  in  which  he  had  so  often  seen  the 
breaking  day  reflected  as  he  stared  hopelessly 
towards  a  hopeless  sky,  asking  himself  if  it  were 
worth  while  getting  up  and  continuing  his  useless 
strife  with  Society  for  another  long,  weary  day. 

He  hastened  to  blot  the  evil  memories  from  his 
mind,  thought  of  the  joyful  fact  that  at  last  it 
was  Sunday,  covered  the  entrance  of  his  den  with 
the  door-mat  he  had  woven  of  liana  cords,  and 
hurried  away. 

The  direction  was  not  difficult  to  find.     He  had 

94 


THE  FIRST  MEETING  95 

only  to  follow  his  own  trodden-down  path  to  the 
wood,  and  once  inside,  the  broken  loose-hanging 
lianas  showed  the  course  used  by  him  constantly 
during  the  past  week. 

He  shivered  in  the  chill  morning  air,  and 
walked  so  quickly  that  it  was  barely  half-past 
nine  when  he  arrived  at  the  meeting-place  in  the 
cave. 

He  was  on  the  point  of  climbing  down  to  the 
entrance  when  he  heard  the  crackling  of  leaves 
from  the  south,  and  caught  sight  of  Pieter  Goy's 
sturdy  form  approaching  through  the  dim  light  of 
the  wood. 

He  sat  down  with  his  long  legs  on  the  slope, 
picked  up  a  straw,  and  began  picking  his  teeth. 

"Hallo  !"  shouted  Pieter  from  among  the  trees. 

Daniel  waved  his  hand,  but  remained  quietly 
seated.  Was  he  not  Lord  of  the  Island? 

Pieter  Goy  came  out  into  the  light,  red  and 
puffy  in  the  face,  bearing  his  knapsack  in  the 
same  manner  as  when  he  had  left  a  week  pre- 
viously. 

"Why  have  you  brought  all  your  baggage  with 
you?" 

"I'm  not  mad  enough  to  leave  it  behind.  It's 
all  I  have  in  the  world." 

"Who  is  there  to  steal  it?" 

"You  never  know." 

Goy  relieved  himself  of  the  knapsack,  and 
stretched  his  stiff  limbs  till  the  joints  cracked, 

It   annoyed  him   to   see   Daniel   sitting   there 


96  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

calmly  picking  his  teeth.  He  himself  had  had 
neither  sup  nor  bite,  having  left  home  as  early 
as  possible  in  order  to  have  some  reserve  time  in 
the  event  of  not  being  able  to  find  the  way. 

He  glanced  towards  the  hole.  Yes,  it  was 
untouched. 

"We'd  better  light  a  fire,"  said  Daniel,  getting 
up.  "Fire  is  a  symbol  of  meeting  among  all 
children  of  Nature." 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that.  But  I  do 
know  that  it  warms,  and  that  it's  fiendishly  cold 
now." 

Pieter  Goy  sneezed.  He  had  caught  cold  and 
was  sulky. 

Daniel  looked  up  at  him  but  said  nothing. 

Then  Goy  began  to  collect  leaves  and  twigs. 

It  was  no  easy  task  to  make  the  fire  burn,  for 
most  of  the  fuel  was  wet. 

He  was  on  his  chubby  knees  blowing  for  more 
than  half  an  hour  before  success  crowned  his 
efforts. 

It  spluttered  and  hissed,  smoked  and  smelled, 
but  at  last  a  cheerful  flame  sprang  up. 

Daniel  arranged  himself  in  the  best  place,  with 
his  back  to  the  slope.  At  intervals  he  stretched 
himself  forward  to  warm  his  stomach,  while 
Pieter  Goy  warmed  his  hands  over  the  flames  and 
kept  a  sharp  look-out  for  the  others. 

There  came  the  cripple,  poor  fellow,  toiling 
forward  through  the  damp  grass  on  the  farther 
side  of  the  stream. 


THE  FIRST  MEETING  97 

Good  heavens,  how  down-hearted  he  looked ! 

Goy  gazed  at  him  commiseratingly,  and  waved 
both  hands  in  greeting. 

When  Jakob  Beer  finally  succeeded  in  strug- 
gling to  the  top  of  the  slope,  he  flopped  down 
limply  in  front  of  the  fire. 

He  was  so  out  of  breath  that  at  first  he  could 
not  speak.  But  he  smiled  at  Daniel  and  Pieter 
with  eyes  that  seemed  unnaturally  large  and 
clear. 

"Well,  how  have  you  got  on?"  inquired  Goy, 
patting  him  carefully  on  his  crooked  back. 

"Splendidly !     Isn't  it  a  lovely  island  ?" 

Goy  did  not  answer,  but  began  poking  the  fire, 
while  Daniel  talked  enthusiastically  of  the  won- 
derful endless  peace. 

"I  don't  know  so  much  about  that!"  mumbled 
Pieter  to  himself.  He  thought  of  the  green 
parrots  that  woke  him  every  morning  with  their 
ill-natured  gossip. 

Presently  Beer  began  coughing,  and  crouched 
nearer  to  the  fire,  which  reflected  itself  in  his  clear 
eyes. 

Daniel  grew  impatient.  Hendrik  Koort  al- 
ways came  too  late,  confound  him.  And  they 
were  all  frightfully  hungry. 

They  set  to  work  to  clear  the  entrance  to  the 
storehouse. 

"It  looks  as  if  someone  had  been  here,"  said 
Goy,  looking  thoughtfully  at  the  leaves  stuffed 
between  the  stones. 


98  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

"Rotl"  said  Daniel;  "there's  nobody  here  but 
ourselves.  It  must  be  the  rain  that  has  washed 
the  leaves  away." 

The  food-case,  which  had  been  placed  nearest 
the  entrance  of  the  cave  because  it  would  be  re- 
quired first,  was  opened,  and  Daniel  took  out 
what  was  required — biscuits,  meat,  soup  tablets, 
sugar,  and  coffee. 

Goy  felt  deeply  moved  when  he  saw  the  labels 
with  their  good  Dutch  words.  It  was  like  a 
greeting  from  home.  And  his  teeth  watered 
when  the  delicious  homelike  smell  of  meat  rose 
from  the  tin  he  opened. 

"Meat  is  forbidden  really!"  said  Daniel;  "but 
we  brought  this  from  home." 

"That  would  be  the  last  straw  I"  Pieter  held 
tight  to  the  tin,  fearful  of  its  being  taken  from 
him. 

Just  as  he  was  hanging  the  pot  over  the  fire, 
Hendrik's  familiar  native  call  sounded  from  the 
thicket  at  the  top  of  the  bank. 

Daniel  sprang  up  and  shouted,  "Hallo!"  so 
that  he  could  know  where  they  were;  for  the 
slope  hid  them. 

A  crashing  among  the  undergrowth  followed. 
Hendrik's  bass  voice  began  thundering  the 
national  anthem,  and  suddenly  the  songster  him- 
self appeared  above  their  heads. 

"This  is  a  nice  time  to  turn  up,"  said  Daniel 
reprovingly. 

"I  lost  my  way  in  the  wood!" 


THE  FIRST  MEETING  99 

Hendrik  flung  first  his  baggage  down  the 
bank  and  then  himself  after  it,  landing  on  all 
fours. 

His  red  hair  stuck  out  in  all  directions  from 
beneath  his  broad  straw  hat,  which  was  wet 
through  from  the  dripping  foliage  in  the  wood. 

Hair  sprouted  luxuriantly  on  his  sunburnt  face 
and  chest. 

He  shook  hands  all  round,  and  triumphantly 
thrust  out  his  feet  for  inspection. 

Socks  there  were  none,  nor  boots  either,  but 
fastened  to  each  bare  foot  was  a  weird-looking 
bandage,  plaited  of  liana  cords,  with  a  broad 
piece  of  bark  for  sole. 

"What  on  earth's  that?" 

"Natural  clothing!"  he  said,  looking  pleased. 
"Sandals!  I  have  got  so  far." 

He  began  at  once  to  talk  of  his  adventures 
and  his  Crusoe  tree,  until  Daniel  shut  him  up. 

"We  shall  hear  all  about  that  when  the  diaries 
are  read.  Let's  eat  now!" 

"Are  any  of  you  cold?"  asked  the  painter, 
glancing  contemptuously  round  the  gathering. 

He  sat  down  some  distance  from  the  fire  and 
loosened  his  shirt  at  the  neck.  He  looked  as 
fit  as  a  fiddle.  He  was  a  real  son  of  the  Sun 
Isle.  But  as  he  sat  down  he  pressed  one  hand 
covertly  to  his  hip.  He  had  been  suffering  from 
rheumatism  ever  since  his  first  night  in  the  tree. 

Steam  rose  from  the  pot  with  a  delicious 
odour,  which  even  Daniel  could  not  resist. 


ioo  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Goy  bent  over  it  with  distended  nostrils  and 
a  happy  smile  on  his  smooth,  round  lips,  while 
Jakob  Beer  arranged  himself  with  his  thin  legs 
crossed  like  a  Chinaman. 

While  they  were  dispatching  the  soup,  with 
the  meat  and  the  biscuits  in  it,  water  was  put  on 
to  boil  for  coffee.  As  the  beloved  familiar  odour 
began  to  scent  the  air  the  general  tone  became  so 
boisterous  that  Hendrik  Koort  burst  out  with 
his  native  call  again. 

Pieter  Goy  had  finished  his  work.  He  leant 
back  comfortably  against  the  slope  and  put  the 
coffee-dish  at  his  side. 

Then  he  pulled  out  his  short  "bulldog"  pipe, 
stuffed  it  with  something  he  took  from  his  pocket, 
and  lit  it  with  a  glowing  stick  from  the  fire. 

An  aromatic  smoke,  smelling  of  !  something 
other  than  tobacco,  mingled  with  the  odour  of 
the  coffee. 

Hendrik  stole  a  glance  at  the  smoker. 

"Where  did  you  get  that?" 

"It's  a  tobacco  I  discovered  myself." 

They  all  took  a  sniff  at  it. 

"Pff,  what  a  stink!"  exclaimed  Daniel,  with- 
drawing his  nose  hastily. 

"It  smells  like  burnt  cloves  I"  said  Jakob  Beer. 

"Let  me  try  it!"  asked  Hendrik. 

The  entire  company  then  took  each  a  pull  at 
Pieter  Goy's  pipe ;  and  although  they  all  wrinkled 
their  noses  and  spat  out  the  taste,  in  reality  they 


THE  FIRST  MEETING  101 

were  secretly  jealous,  and  resolved  also  to  find 
some  plant  which  was  smokable. 

Even  if  it  did  not  taste  particularly  attractive, 
it  meant  at  least  a  warm  cutty  under  one's  nose. 
The  island  was  all  very  well — in  fact,  it  was  a 
splendid  island — but  one  felt  the  loss  of  tobacco 
keenly. 

While  the  coffee  was  being  disposed  of,  the 
heavy  rain-clouds  scattered  and  floated  out  over 
the  sea.  The  sun  began  to  shine  with  great 
power,  and  they  moved  back  from  the  fire  into 
the  shadow  of  the  trees. 

Daniel  declared  that  the  diaries  should  now  be 
produced. 

"Jakob  begins!" 

Hendrik  mumbled  something  about  "lording 
it,"  but  Daniel  pretended  not  to  hear. 

Jakob  Beer  leant  his  crooked  back  against  the 
tree,  and  fumbled  among  the  pages  of  his  pocket- 
book  with  his  thin  violinist  fingers,  which  were 
full  of  splits,  while  Daniel  leant  back  in  the  grass. 
Goy  laid  down  on  his  chest,  his  head  resting  be- 
tween his  hands,  and  fastened  his  round,  good- 
natured  eyes  on  the  cripple's  mobile  face. 

Hendrik  Koort  flung  himself  down  OR  his 
back  and  stared  up  through  the  tall  tree-tops,  at 
the  same  time  stretching  out  his  sandalled  feet 
and  scratching  his  numerous  mosquito  bites, 
which  were  beginning  again  to  torture  him  as  the 
air  grew  warmer. 


XII:   A   BEAUTIFUL   ISLAND 


B 


"Y^EAUTIFUL  is  Sun  Island!"  began 
Jakob  in  his  thin,  enthusiastic  voice, 
which  was,  however,  slightly  hoarse 
from  the  said  island's  night  air — "beautiful  when 
the  sun  rises  over  the  sea,  stretching  his  golden 
strings  from  east  to  west,  and  sounding  his 
eternal  music  over  the  island  in  a  dim  cre- 
scendo." 

"What's  that?"  asked  Pieter. 

Hendrik  looked  up. 

"No  interruptions!" 

Jakob  Beer,  however,  turned  his  clear  eyes 
towards  Pieter,  and  explained  gently: 

"Crescendo ! — that  is  when  the  sound  becomes 
louder — slowly  and  evenly,  as  when  light  in- 
creases— from  dawn  to  daylight — you  under- 
stand?" 

"Crescendo  means  'growing' !"  said  Daniel 
curtly. 

Jakob  then  continued  reading,  while  the  little 
parrots  sitting  high  up  above  his  head  listened 
intently  to  the  strange  animal's  voice. 

He  read  his  description  of  his  first  tentative 
wanderings  through  the  wood,  of  how  his  soul, 
released  from  his  body,  floated  out  into  the  green 
virgin  world  and  was  filled  with  its  elemental 

102 


A  BEAUTIFUL  ISLAND  103 

sounds,  until,  overwhelmed  by  the  mighty  sym- 
phony, he  had  sunk  into  blessed  slumber. 

His  thin  fingers  played  through  the  air.  Two 
red  spots  of  enthusiasm  burned  in  his  thin  cheeks 
as  he  described  how  the  immense  solitude,  after 
having  first  frightened  and  discouraged  him, 
finally  took  him  to  its  bosom,  as  a  mother 
gathers  a  child  in  her  arms. 

He  read  of  how  he  had  built  his  nest  under  the 
roof  of  palms,  and,  evening  after  evening,  had 
listened  to  the  secret  tones  floating  down  to  him 
through  the  infinite  stillness  of  the  wood. 

Goy  gazed  up  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"If  it  was  infinitely  still,  then  where  did  the 
tones  come  from?" 

Jakob  absently  fixed  his  tired,  dreamy  eyes  on 
Goy's  round  face,  but  Daniel  irritably  bade  him 
not  to  interrupt. 

Jakob  Beer  then  read  of  the  sparkling  clarity 
of  the  morning  light,  as  it  stole  in  between  the 
tree-trunks  and  kissed  his  cheek. 

A  fit  of  coughing  seized  him,  forcing  him  to 
cease  reading.  When  he  had  once  more  re- 
covered his  breath  he  related  how  he  clambered 
up  into  the  towering  palm  and  drank  the  wine 
of  the  cocoa-nut.  He  told  how  he  ate  to  reple- 
tion of  the  banana's  purple  meat,  and  described 
how  they  hung,  yellow  and  heavy  in  thick  clus- 
ters, screened  from  the  sun  by  huge,  waving 
leaf-banners. 

Pieter  Goy  raised  his  head  eagerly. 


104  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

"Take  me  along  and  show  me  the  place,  Jakob. 
I've  only  seen  little  green  ones  that  are  no  good 
except  for  cooking." 

Daniel  glared  sternly  at  him;  and  Jakob  con- 
cluded his  recital  by  declaring  life  in  solitude 
to  be  the  greatest  discovery  he  had  ever  made  in 
his  life. 

"Solitude  is  all  very  fine!"  said  Pieter  Goy, 
as  he  scratched  his  mosquito  bites;  "but  if  I  am 
to  give  my  opinion,  there  is  not  much  fun  in  lying 
still,  twiddling  your  thumbs,  when  you  might  be 
reading  a  newspaper  or  having  a  chat  with  some 
other  sensible  human  being.  And  I  don't  think 
much  of  the  stillness  either;  for  where  I  live  the 
little  green  parrots  kick  up  a  fearful  shindy  when- 
ever I  begin  to  take  a  nap." 

Everybody  ignored  Goy's  criticisms.  Jakob 
replaced  his  diary  in  his  pocket,  while  Hendrik 
Koort  sat  up  and  began  to  read  in  his  deep  bass. 

He  related  how  he  had  walked  blindly  along 
under  the  tall,  dark  trees,  until  the  sun  burst  forth 
and  forced  its  rays  through  the  leafy  canopy. 

He  described  the  marvellous  play  of  colour 
on  the  flat  green  surfaces,  the  thin  curved  twigsy 
and  the  light  effects  through  the  ripe  fruits. 
How  his  vision  had  been  filled  with  fire  and 
ecstasy  of  which  he  had  never  before  been  capable 
and  which  he  would  now  set  to  work  to  paint. 

He  talked  of  the  sun  above  the  island  as  if 
it  were  quite  a  special  sun;  and  of  colours  which 
no  living  eye  had  ever  seen. 


A  BEAUTIFUL  ISLAND  105 

Then  he  told  of  his  first  meal  in  the  bosom 
of  Nature,  of  how  a  wonderful  animal  had  ap- 
peared from  under  the  foliage,  had  approached 
him  trustfully,  as  brother  to  brother,  and  had 
eaten  out  of  his  hand. 

"Then  you  were  luckier  than  I  was,"  inter- 
rupted Goy;  "for  when  I  sat  eating,  there  came 
an  animal  too.  It  was  a  kind  of  lizard,  with 
clear,  green  eyes  and  horrid  bumps  all  the 
way  down  its  back.  But  it  wasn't  a  bit  trustful. 
It  sat  and  grudged  me  my  food  and  wouldn't 
move.  But  perhaps  I " 

"Shut  up  until  your  turn  comes!"  wheezed 
Hendrik,  and  continued  his  reading. 

He  read  of  how  he  had  taken  up  his  residence 
in  a  tree  like  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  dwelt  on  the 
fact  that  the  tree  was  the  primitive  and  ideal 
human  dwelling.  Protected  against  reptiles  and 
wild  beasts,  floating  freely  in  the  air,  yet  at  the 
same  time  close  to  the  mother-heart  of  earth, 
wakened  by  the  first  blushing  rays  of  the  morn- 
ing sun. 

Goy  looked  up  in  astonishment. 

"Have  you  slept  up  in  a  tree  for  seven  nights?" 

"Yes." 

"By  Gosh,  you  must  be  stiff  all  over!" 

Hendrik  disdained  to  answer.  After  touch- 
ing lightly  on  the  events  of  the  succeeding  days, 
he  concluded  with  a  panegyric  on  the  sun,  which 
in  such  a  motherly  way  had  received  its  children 
who  now  at  last  had  found  their  rightful  home. 


io6  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Daniel  had  listened  attentively  to  Jakob's  and 
Hendrik's  reports,  expressing  his  approval  by 
nod  or  monosyllabic  word.  It  was  a  great  satis- 
faction to  him  that  none  of  the  others  had  come 
so  closely  in  touch  with  the  island  or  understood 
how  to  adapt  themselves  to  circumstances  as 
well  as  he.  It  helped  to  confirm  his  conviction 
that  he  was  the  true  and  rightful  Lord  of  the 
Island. 

In  the  full  consciousness  of  this  fact  he  now 
drew  forth  his  diary  from  his  pocket,  made 
himself  comfortable,  and  began  to  read,  Pieter 
Goy  meanwhile  moving  nearer  the  better  to  hear. 

He  gave  a  long,  poetical  representation  of 
his  progress  over  the  island ;  up,  ever  up ;  lingered 
over  the  lonely  cocoa-nut  palm,  describing  so 
solemnly  its  symbolical  significance  that  Goy, 
from  sheer  force  of  habit,  folded  his  hands. 

He  told  how  all  the  things  on  the  island  should 
serve  him:  the  cocoa-nut  and  the  banana  palms 
with  their  fruit  and  leaves,  the  taro  plant  with 
its  roots — if  the  latter  existed  on  the  island. 
He  described  it  in  minute  detail  in  case  any  of  the 
others  should  have  happened  upon  it. 

He  related  how  he  had  found  the  wild  yams, 
whose  root  was  as  nourishing  as  cabbage,  and 
could  be  stored  for  months.  It  grew  just  outside 
his  house,  climbing  up  towards  him  from  the 
terrace  in  his  garden. 

Hendrik's  eyes  grew  round. 

"Terrace?"  he  repeated,  interrogatively. 


A  BEAUTIFUL  ISLAND  107 

Daniel  then  told  of  his  lonely  castle  built  of 
earth  and  rock  just  below  the  summit  of  the  cliff, 
from  which  he  could  view  the  whole  of  his  king- 
dom. 

"Our  kingdom!"  corrected  Hendrik. 

He  talked  of  the  "castle"  in  such  a  way  that 
his  listeners  visualized  a  complete  house  with 
walls  and  windows  and  doors.  He  talked  of 
terrace  and  garden  so  that  they  could  not  but 
believe  them  to  be  the  work  of  his  own  hands. 
He  described  the  ladder  which  led  down  from  the 
castle  and  could  be  drawn  up  like  the  mediaeval 
drawbridge;  but  he  did  not  mention  that  it  was 
a  growth  of  humble  liana  creepers. 

He  held  forth  on  freedom  and  the  instinct  to 
rule,  until  Pieter  Goy  felt  proud  and  happy  at 
being  allowed  to  listen. 

But  when  he  mentioned  the  spell  of  evening 
as  he  sat  like  a  king  before  his  castle,  looking 
out  over  the  waters,  whilst  the  mosquitoes  swung 
in  humming  dance  before  his  eyes,  Pieter  could 
not  restrain  himself. 

"I  don't  think!"  he  said,  and  scratched  his 
fat  arms,  which  were  covered  with  red  and 
swollen  souvenirs  from  the  same  mosquitoes. 

When  Daniel  had  finished  his  recital  he  lifted 
his  chin  and  looked  proudly  and  expectantly 
round  the  assembly. 

"Extraordinary!"  exclaimed  Goy,  staring  awe- 
struck with  his  good-natured  eyes. 

He  had  always  admired  Daniel;  but  that  he 


io8  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

could  accomplish  so  much  in  so  short  a  space  of 
time  was  far  beyond  his  expectations. 

Jakob,  too,  expressed,  in  his  usual  vague  man- 
ner, his  unqualified  admiration. 

Hendrik  Koort  alone  sat  silent,  apparently 
quite  unimpressed,  staring  into  space.  He  had 
been  so  certain  that  none  of  the  others  could 
beat  his  Crusoe  tree — and  then  came  Daniel  with 
his  castle,  ladder,  garden,  and  terrace. 

"Yes,  you  are  a  poet!"  he  said  at  last  enigmat- 
ically. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  exclaimed 
Daniel,  leaping  to  his  feet. 

"I  mean,  it  all  looks  very  well  on  paper !" 

Daniel  was  on  the  point  of  replying  angrily, 
when  he  calmed  himself  with  the  thought  that  he 
was  Lord  of  the  Island,  of  whom  was  demanded 
self-control  and  superiority. 

"Among  Brothers  of  the  Sun  there  should  be 
trust  and  forbearance,"  he  said  ponderously,  and 
turned  to  Pieter  Goy. 

"Now  it's  your  turn!" 

Pieter  was  quite  unused  to  expressing  himself 
in  writing.  Full  of  respect  for  the  fine  words 
and  beautiful  descriptions  of  the  others,  he  felt 
afraid  of  being  laughed  at  for  his  homely  phrases. 

He  glanced  from  one  to  the  other,  and  asked 
if -he  might  not  be  let  off. 

"No!" 

"I  think  I've  left  it  at  home!"  he  said  ten- 
tatively, growing  red  in  the  face. 


A  BEAUTIFUL  ISLAND  109 

"Rot!  you  have  all  your  baggage  with  you." 

Pieter  saw  there  was  no  escape. 

"It's  easy  enough  for  you  to  make  fun  of  one 
who's  never  been  taught  properly,"  he  said  ex- 
tenuatingly. 

"There  is  no  one  here  who  will  make  fun!" 
said  Daniel.  "Fire  away!" 


XIII:    THE    MEAT    EATERS 

GOY   had   divided   his    account   according 
to  the  pages  in  his  diary. 
He    had   counted  them.     There   were 
one  hundred  in  all.     If  he  gave  each  day  one 
page,   the  book  would  last  one  hundred  days, 
and  at  the  same  time  serve  as  an  effective  little 
calendar. 

Each  page  started  with  the  date.  After  that 
came  a  short  report  of  the  weather.  Then 
followed  his  experiences  in  chronological  order 
without  internal  connection. 

The  first  day  read  as  follows: 

"Ten  o'clock.  Departure  from  meeting-place. 
Southwards  through  the  wood.  Hot  sun. 
Sweat.  Bananas,  small  and  green,  in  knapsack." 

All  went  well,  the  audience  maintaining  a  suit- 
able gravity,  until  Pieter  Goy  came  to  his  ac- 
count of  the  meal  in  the  wood. 

"Damned  beastliness  with  a  bird,  that  made 
a  mess  on  my  food!"  he  read. 

At  this  Hendrik  could  control  himself  no 
longer.  He  slapped  his  fat  legs  and  laughed  so 
loudly  that  the  little  parrots  fled  terrified  from 
the  tree-tops. 

Daniel  and  Jakob,  who  both  sat  scratching  their 
no 


THE  MEAT  EATERS  111 

mosquito  bites,   shouted  with   amusement   also. 

Pieter  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  and  de- 
manded in  an  offended  voice  whether  a  diary 
should  be  a  reliable  and  exact  account,  or  merely 
lies  and  highfalutin  phrases. 

Daniel  succeeded  after  a  while  in  calming  him. 
Hendrik  turned  his  back  to  avoid  temptation; 
and  Pieter  started  off  again  in  a  high,  solemn 
voice,  like  that  of  the  deacon  reading  the  lessons 
in  church  at  home. 

When  he  reached  the  description  of  the  bam- 
boo grove,  Hendrik  turned  round  again. 

And  when  he  told  of  his  delicious  shower-bath 
in  the  waterfall,  the  painter  hung  on  his  every 
word. 

Pieter  reported  how  he  had  followed  the 
stream  in  order  to  find  the  coast,  and  how  he 
had  chosen  his  dwelling-place  close  to  the  water- 
fall in  order  to  have  fresh  water  always  near 
at  hand  and  be  able  to  take  his  customary  bath 
every  morning. 

He  described  his  bamboo  house  which  he  had 
already  completed  on  the  day,  following,  and 
made  so  high  that  he  could  easily  stand  upright 
inside. 

He  told  how  he  had  made  soup  from  bananas, 
how  he  had  constructed  a  permanent  fireplace 
of  stone  just  outside  his  hut,  and  had  built  a  shed 
with  thatched  roof  in  which  to  keep  fuel  and  food. 

As  the  account  progressed  and  the  others  heard 
how  he  had  occupied  every  hour  of  the  day  in 


112  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

doing  something  useful,  improving  his  conditions, 
laying  in  stores  for  the  winter,  condescension 
turned  to  admiration,  interest  to  envy. 

Daniel  shifted  uneasily.  Secretly  he  had  to 
acknowledge  to  himself  that  this  was  something 
other  than  his  hard,  cold,  stone  castle. 

Goy  told  curtly,  almost  scientifically,  how 
he  had  experimented  with  all  kinds  of  roots 
until  he  had  found  something  tasting  like  pota- 
toes. 

He  had  tried  many  different  kinds  of  leaves 
before  deciding  which  one  to  use  for  tobacco. 

On  the  third  day  he  had  succeeded  in  construct- 
ing a  real  bedstead,  with  thin  bamboos  in  a  double 
layer  for  framework  and  springs,  and  a  mat- 
tress made  of  the  fibres  of  the  long  plantain 
leaves,  woven  together  and  stuffed  with  soft,  sun- 
dried  moss. 

Finally  there  stood: 

"Captured  two  small  turtles  on  the  strand. 
Cooked  soup  for  two  days.  Tasted  splendid." 

"Turtles!"  interrupted  Daniel,  looking  sternly 
at  him.  "They  are  forbidden!" 

"Why?" 

"Meat-eating  is  against  the  rules." 

"What  next?"  exclaimed  Pieter,  disgustedly 
slamming  his  diary.  "Did  you  think  I  would 
let  a  turtle  escape  when  I  met  it?  One  helping 
of  turtle  at  home  costs  two  guilders,  and  mine 
gave  four  times  as  much  as  that.  It  was  justifi- 
able if  only  for  the  sake  of  my  health,  considering 


THE  MEAT  EATERS  113, 

all  that  stodgy  plant  food  we  stuff  ourselves  with." 

Hendrik  rose  to  his  feet  and  said: 

"Pieter  Goy  is  right.  It  is  of  no  use  our  dam- 
aging our  health.  Hanged  if  I'm  not  swollen 
like  a  balloon  with  all  these  everlasting  roots." 

He  joined  his  hands  over  his  stomach,  and 
showed  Daniel  that  his  trousers  would  barely 
meet  round  it. 

"A  law  is  a  law!"  said  Daniel. 

"Then  perhaps  it's  forbidden  to  eat  a  young 
pigeon  which  falls  out  of  its  nest  and  is  sure  to  die 
in  any  case !  Why,  such  an  act  is  sheer  kindness 
of  heart!" 

Daniel  read  the  guilty  tonscience  in  Hendrik's 
eyes,  as  he  stood  there  butting  towards  him  with 
his  bulging  forehead. 

"Perhaps  that  is  what  you've  already  done?" 

"Exactly.  It  was  wounded  in  the  head,  and 
lay  gasping  on  the  ground  before  me,  so  that  I 
almost  trod  on  it." 

Jakob  Beer  turned  to  him  with  interest. 

"Did  you  eat  it  raw?" 

"I  plucked  it  and  cooked  it  in  my  pot  with 
v/ater  and  an  unripe  bread-fruit.  Um — m,  it 
tasted  good!" 

Jakob  Beer,  who  had  been  the  one  to  introduce 
vegetarianism,  confessed  with  emotion  his  own 
falling  from  virtue. 

"Come,  now,  Daniel,  it's  no  good  being  so 
strict,  you  know — to  begin  with.  Will  you 
believe  it! — I  was  walking  along  and  saw  some 


114  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

cocoa-nuts  which  I  had  looked  forward  to  eating 
for  supper.  But  when  I  was  climbing  up  to  fetch 
them  I  became  quite  giddy  half-way  up,  and  had 
to  scramble  down  as  best  I  could.  Oh,  I  was  so 
humgry!  It  was  yesterday  evening.  I  had 
finished  all  my  ration,  and  then  I  ate  some  red 
berries  which  grew  on  a  bush  near  my  sleeping- 
tree.  Will  you  believe  it!  I  was  frightfully 
sick;  and  afterwards  I  became  so  ravenous  that 
I  simply  had  to " 

"Had  to  what?" 

"To  eat  some  bird's  eggs,  which  I  had  seen  in 
a  nest.  I  made  holes  in  the  shells  and  sucked  out 
the  insides.  I  had  half  a  biscuit  left  which  I  ate 
with  them.  'Pon  my  soul,  I  don't  believe  I  could 
over  have  managed  to  reach  here  to-day  if  I  had 
not  had  them  to  eat." 

Daniel  sat  awhile  considering.  He  himself 
had  a  clear  conscience  in  the  matter  of  meat-eat- 
ing. He  had  not  been  able  to  get  anything  of 
that  kind.  He  had  strenuously  but  vainly  en- 
deavoured to  capture  one  of  the  wild  pigeons 
which  sat  in  flocks  at  the  border  of  the  wood  look- 
ing at  him  in  astonishment.  That  was  yesterday, 
when  food  had  run  short. 

"It  cannot  be  denied,"  said  he  at  last,  "that 
things  will  be  rather  difficult  until  we  learn  to 
know  the  island  better  and  find  the  proper  plants 
to  eat.  I  have,  for  example,  at  home  in  my  gar- 
den, just  beneath  the  terrace,  as  I  told  you,  a  gen- 
uine wild  yam.  It  is  excellent  food,  when  cooked ; 


THE  MEAT  EATERS  115 

but  I  committed  the  indiscretion — I  was  hungry, 
and  too  impatient  to  wait — of  eating  a  piece  of 
the  root  raw.  I  won't  say  that  I  got  internal 
pains  from  it,  nor  that  I  was  sick;  but  my  stomach 
has  been  out  of  order  for  two  whole  days.  It  is 
therefore  that  I  have  grown  so  thin." 

They  looked  more  closely  at  him,  and  remarked 
now  that  Daniel's  features  had  become  even 
sharper  than  before. 

Pieter  Goy  looked  from  him  to  the  others,  and 
said  sympathetically: 

"Then  it's  clear  that  you've  all  had  a  damned 
bad  time  of  it,  every  man  Jack  of  you." 

"Well,  mistakes  are  always  to  be  expected  in 
the  beginning,"  said  Daniel,  running  his  fingers 
through  his  hair  in  his  customary  manner. 

Pieter  Goy  pondered  a  moment  over  this;  then 
he  said  innocently: 

"You  have  all  forgotten  to  write  about  that  in 
your  diaries.  There  it  was  all  light  and  sun- 
shine." 

This  was  more  than  Daniel  could  stand.  He 
turned  upon  the  ex-waiter,  and  said  sternly  and 
reprovingly : 

"Pieter  Goy — you  are  a  person  without  love 
of  Nature,  and  without  understanding  of  the 
greater  things  in  life.  The  humble  country  con- 
ditions in  which  you  grew  up  deprived  you  of  the 
ability  to  distinguish  between  the  essential  and  the 
non-essential  in  life.  The  many  years  you  spent 
subsequently  among  glasses  and  bottles  between 


n6  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

the  dark  and  dirty  walls  of  a  wretched  cafe 
have  still  further  narrowed  your  outlook. 
That  is  your  excuse.  When  we,  nevertheless,  de- 
cided to  take  you  with  us  to  Sun  Island  as  a  mem- 
ber of  our  clique,  it  was  because  we  felt  sympathy 
for  you,  and  nursed  the  hope  that  we  should  suc- 
ceed, through  the  medium  of  friendly  intercourse, 
in  developing  the  superior  qualities  which  lie  slum- 
bering within  you.  This  hope  we  expect  you  not 
to  bring  to  shame." 

Pieter  Goy  looked  dazedly  and  uncomprehend- 
ingly  up  into  Daniel's  brown  eyes,  which  he  knew 
so  well. 

He  suddenly  felt  himself  back  in  his  old  place 
as  waiter  in  the  back  room  of  the  Lions'  Den, 
flushed  deeply,  and  was  silent. 

"Then  we  are  agreed,"  said  Daniel  turning  to 
the  others,  "that  meat-eating  is  to  be  permitted 
for  the  present.  Taking  into  consideration  the 
difficulties  connected  with  putting  our  decision 
into  execution,  there's  likely  to  be  no  pressing 
danger  of  our  overdoing  it." 

Hendrik  thrust  his  fat  arm  through  Goy's,  and 
said: 

"That  was  splendid  about  those  turtles !  You 
bet  I  shall  go  down  to  the  strand  and  look  too." 

Pieter  was  sulky,  and  drew  his  arm  away. 

"Not  where  I  live.  The  rule  is  that  each 
keeps  to  his  own  district.  What  is  mine,  is 
mine!" 


THE  MEAT  EATERS  117 

Daniel  turned  again  towards  him,  and  said  re- 
proachfully : 

'"We  did  not  flee  from  the  old  Society  with  its 
mine  and  thine,  its  good  and  bad,  its  shall  and 
must,  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a  like  one 
over  here." 

Goy  fell  back,  with  his  mouth  open.  How 
could  he  know  that  one  of  Daniel's  pet  weak- 
nesses— when  living  in  the  old  Dutch  Society — 
was  real  turtle  soup;  but  he  had  tasted  it  only 
three  times  in  his  life. 


XIV:    ROBBERS   IN   THE 
WOOD 

IN  the  afternoon  the  sun  ceased  to  shine. 
Great  heavy  rain-clouds  once  more  ap- 
proached from  the  north  towards  the  island. 
A  cold  wind  blew  in  long  gusts  through  the  tree- 
tops. 

Jakob  Beer  doubled  up  over  his  pointed  knees, 
and  began  to  cough  so  that  it  tore  Pieter  Goy's 
heart. 

Daniel  got  up  and  did  some  gymnastic  exer- 
cises, while  Hendrik  sang  at  the  top  of  his  voice 
to  keep  warm. 

Pieter  Goy  raked  at  the  fire,  but  it  had  long 
since  gone  out.  He  had  had  nasal  catarrh  for 
the  last  couple  of  days..  He  had  believed  it  cured, 
but  now  he  began  once  more  to  run  at  the  nose. 

Hendrik  massaged  his  loins  to  shift  his  rheu- 
matism. Daniel  held  his  hands  over  his  stomach 
to  keep  it  warm.  Since  his  first  severe  attack  he 
had  had  the  feeling  that  a  lump  of  ice  lay  inside 
him  all  the  time;  but  he  was  too  proud  to  admit 
that  he  was  cold,  and  waited  for  one  of  the 
others  to  complain  first. 

Goy  lay  down  on  his  back  and  stared  up  at  the 
heavy,  drifting  clouds.  He  dreamed  himself 
back  in  Amsterdam,  and  wondered  who  had  taken 
over  his  post  at  the  cafe.  Even  if  it  had  the 

118 


ROBBERS  IN  THE  WOOD         119 

drawback  of  being  dingy  and  dark,  it  was,  at  all 
events,  always  beautifully  warm. 

As  he  lay  dreaming,  a  big  wet  drop  fell  on  the 
tip  of  his  nose.  He  looked  round,  held  up  his 
hand  to  try,  listened,  and 

Yes,  it  was  rain  all  right.  Now  a  drop  fell 
on  his  hand,  and  again  one  on  his  face. 

He  got  up,  and  glanced  at  the  others. 

Beer  was  asleep,  with  open  mouth,  and  arms 
hugging  his  knees.  His  long,  thin  face  wore 
such  a  look  of  suffering,  in  spite  of  his  permanent 
smile,  that  Pieter's  heart  again  smote  him. 

He  looked  towards  Daniel;  but  the  latter  sat 
engrossed  in  his  diary,  writing  hard,  and  had  not 
as  yet  noticed  the  rain. 

Hendrik,  on  the  contrary,  humped  his  broad 
shoulders  into  the  air,  pulled  his  shirt  up  round 
his  ears,  and  leaned  forward  under  the  bushes; 
Goy  could  see  by  his  thick  lips  that  he  sat  swear- 
ing. 

Then  Jakob  Beer  was  wakened  by  a  fresh  fit  of 
coughing  which  drove  the  blood  into  his  pallid 
cheeks.  He  looked  round  with  a  helpless  look  in 
his  large,  clear  eyes,  while  his  smile  contracted 
with  pain. 

Simultaneously  the  rain  began  to  patter  on  the 
leaves.  Now  it  poured  so  hard  that  the  "rays" 
were  discernible  between  the  tree-stems. 

Pieter  Goy  could  stand  it  no  longer. 

"Daniel!"  said  he,  planting  himself  right  in 
front  of  the  Lord  of  the  Island,  "I  ask  you,  don't 


120  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

you  think  we  ought  to  put  on  our  old  clothes 
again?  My  nose  runs  so  that  I  do  nothing  but 
sniff.  And  look  at  Jakob  I  He  shivers  and 
coughs  enough  to  make  one's  heart  bleed." 

Although  Daniel  sat  with  an  icy  stomach,  and 
inwardly  longed  with  all  his  heart  for  his  warm 
coat  so  solemnly  relinquished  but  a  week  before, 
he  would,  however,  not  be  one  of  those  to  com- 
plain of  the  island,  for  the  good  qualities  of 
which  he,  as  discoverer  and  "lord,"  felt  a  moral 
responsibility. 

"You  look  unwell,  Jakob,"  he  said.  "Are  you 
cold?" 

Jakob  smiled  and  huddled  up.  He  said  noth- 
ing, but  speech  was  unnecessary.  One  could  both 
see  and  hear  his  teeth  chattering  in  his  mouth. 

"After  all,  there  is  no  sense  in  our  sitting  here 
glowering,"     said     Daniel,     rising;     "such     in- 
activity is  opposed  to  mankind's  primitive  in-* 
stincts." 

Jakob  Beer  raised  his  clever  eyes  to  Daniel  and 
smiled. 

He  was  so  inured  to  suffering  that  he  considered 
it  of  little  importance.  He  had  accustomed  him- 
self to  seek  refuge  in  sound  dreams — just  as 
others  seek  opium  or  morphine. 

Daniel  cast  a  glance  at  the  sky, — there  was  not 
a  blue  spot  to  be  seen, — thought  of  his  good  warm 
coat,  and  said,  after  a  pause: 

"Although  I  personally  disapprove  entirely  of 
our  going  back  on  what  we  have  once  agreed  upon, 


ROBBERS  IN  THE  WOOD         121 

yet  it  is  evident  to  me  that,  in  consideration  of 
Jakob's  health,  which  is  not  so  satisfactory  as  it 
should  be,  we  had  better  temporarily  relinquish 
our  plan  to  wear  clothing  of  a  primitive  nature  in 
keeping  with  Sun  Island  climate.  Society,  after 
all,  is  not  founded  on  clothes.  Therefore  I  pro- 
pose that  for  the  present  each  one  of  us  be 
allowed  to  put  on  whichever  of  his  old  garments 
he  finds  desirable — that  is  to  say,  which  are  in 
keeping  with  the  exigencies  of  his  health." 

"Agreed!"  shouted  Goy,  hastening  over  to 
help  Jakob  to  his  feet. 

Hendrik  crept  out  from  his  bush. 

"Damnation!"  he  burst  out,  as  he  rubbed  his 
back  vigorously.  "I've  got  a  touch  of  rheuma- 
tism from  sitting  too  near  the  fire  this  morning. 
Now  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  put  on  some  extra 
clothing." 

Daniel  fought  the  good  fight  in  silence;  but  be- 
fore arriving,  in  company  with  the  others,  at  the 
entrance  to  the  cave,  he  had  also  capitulated. 

"It's  extraordinary  how  my  strength  is  under- 
mined through  my  stomach  being  in  such  disorder. 
I  feel  as  though  I  shall  never  be  warm  inside 
again.  I  believe,  in  spite  of  all,  that  Goy  is  right. 
One  must  be  careful  of  one's  health  in  the  begin- 
ning, until  one  is  used  to  the  new  conditions.  I 
think  that  I  too  would  be  best  advised  to  put  on 
my  old  clothes." 

Pieter  Goy  was,  as  usual,  foremost  when  it 
was  a  question  of  work. 


122  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

With  the  rain  splashing  down  on  his  broad  back 
he  shifted  the  provision-case  standing  in  the  en- 
trance to  one  side.  But  he  had  scarcely  entered 
the  cave  when  he  uttered  a  shout  of  astonishment, 
and  again  appeared  in  the  opening. 

"Someone  has  been  at  the  chest!"  he  exclaimed, 
looking  searchingly  from  one  to  the  other.  But 
no  signs  of  guilt  were  to  be  detected. 

"Do  you  remember,  Daniel — it  was  you  and  I 
who  packed  the  clothes?" 

"In  the  green  chest" 

"Yes,  in  the  green  chest;  and  we  shut  it  after 
us,  didn't  we?" 

"Yes — and  put  a  large  stone  on  the  lid  to  hold 
it  down  and  keep  out  the  damp." 

"Quite  right,  for  it  was  over-full.  Now,  look 
here !  The  stone  is  on  the  ground  and  the  chest 
is  open." 

They  all  crowded  to  the  entrance  and  leant 
forward  to  see.  Then  they  stood  back  again  and 
looked  suspiciously  in  one  another's  faces. 

"Well,  I'll  be  hanged  if  /  am  guilty !"  exclaimed 
Hendrik  in  an  injured  voice. 

Jakob  looked  at  Daniel  with  large,  frightened 
eyes,  and  said : 

"You  don't  believe  I  did  it?" 

"Let's  see  if  there  is  anything  missing!"  said 
Daniel,  pushing  the  others  aside. 

Goy  followed  him. 

The  chest  was  curiously  easy  to  lift  as  they 


ROBBERS  IN  THE  WOOD         123 

brought  it  forth  into  the  light.  Then  they  flung 
the  lid  wide  open. 

In  the  same  instant  Pieter  shouted: 

"Well,  I'm !" 

Neither  coats,  nor  vests,  nor  trousers  were  to 
be  seen.  Daniel  went  white  in  the  face,  and 
reached  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  chest  with 
trembling  fingers. 

Then  he  felt  something,  hauled  it  up,  and  held 
it  out  at  arm's  length. 

It  proved  to  be  two  woolen  jerseys  and  a  pair 
of  Hendrik  Koort's  well-known  black-striped 
pants. 

Nothing  else  was  left  of  their  entire  stock  of 
clothing. 


XV:    ROUND    THE   WATCH- 
FIRE 

WHILST  Pieter  Goy  stood  gaping  at  the 
clothes  as  if  they  had  fallen  from 
heaven,  Hendrik  sprang  forward, 
pulled  the  chest  right  out  into  the  open,  and  turned 
it  upside  down. 

Jakob  shook  with  cold  until  the  teeth  chattered 
in  his  mouth. 

"There  must  have  been  thieves  in  our  cave," 
he  said. 

"Where  should  they  come  from?"  Daniel 
looked  involuntarily  towards  the  wood,  where  two 
parrots  sat  shrieking,  as  if  they  knew  and  were  en- 
joying the  perplexity  of  the  Sun  Brothers. 

Pieter  Goy  was  the  first  to  arrive  at  a  conclu- 
sion. 

"As  it's  not  one  of  us  who  has  taken  the  clothes, 
then  there  must  be  other  human  beings  on  the 
island!" 

Daniel  said  nothing.  The  logic  in  Pieter  Goy's 
words  overwhelmed  him.  He  felt  more  insignifi- 
cant than  he  had  done  for  a  long  time.  Had 
Sun  Island,  after  all,  been  discovered  by  others 
before  him?  Was  he  not  its  lord?  Had  some- 
one got  wind  of  his  plans  at  home  in  Antwerp 
when  he  went  about  studying  the  matter,  and 

124 


ROUND  THE  WATCH-FIRE        125 

stolen  a  march  on  him?  Was  it  a  trick  of  the  old 
man — the  ship-owner — wishing  even  out  here  to 
keep  a  watch  on  him? 

He  clung  for  a  moment  to  the  solution  that  one 
of  his  companions  had  stolen  the  clothes  and  hid- 
den them;  but  relinquished  it  immediately.  The 
astonishment  in  their  eyes  had  been  unmistakable. 

At  last  he  found  a  clue.  And  simultaneously 
both  Hendrik  and  Pieter  thought  of  the  same 
thing. 

"They  haven't  touched  the  provision-case!" 
exclaimed  Pieter  Goy. 

"Then  they  were  not  hungry!"  deduced 
Hendrik,  and  went  into  the  cave  where  Daniel 
had  already  begun  to  investigate. 

"The  medicine-case  is  also  undisturbed!" 

"Yes,  but  it  was  locked!"  added  Pieter. 

"The  tool-case,  too,  they  have  left  alone;  and 
that  wasn't  locked.  Tools,  in  short,  they  have 
not  stood  in  need  of,"  said  Pieter.  "Therefore 
they  must  be  better  equipped  than  we." 

"Or  else  they  didn't  know  how  to  use  them!" 
put  in  Daniel. 

"The  books  are  untouched!"  he  added,  a 
moment  later. 

"Then  they  haven't  been  able  to  understand 
Dutch!"  exclaimed  Jakob  Beer. 

"Or  they  cannot  read!"  said  Daniel. 

"Here's  my  gun.  Hooray!"  rejoiced  Pieter, 
taking  it  in  his  arms  as  if  it  were  a  beloved 
child.  "Thank  goodness  that's  all  right!" 


126  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

"I  have  it!"  Hendrik  went  out  of  the  cave, 
and  waited  till  they  were  all  gathered  round 
him.  "It  is  savages  who  have  stolen  the  clothes. 
The  food  they  have  not  touched  because  they 
didn't  know  what  biscuits  and  tinned  food  were. 
Tools  they  don't  understand  how  to  use.  Of 
books  they  know  nothing,  and  a  gun  they  have 
never  seen  before.  Clothes  were  the  only  things 
which  seemed  of  use  to  them.  They  have  prob- 
ably pulled  them  all  to  pieces  and  shared  them 
out  among  them  for  ornament.  Or  else  the 
chief  is  strutting  about  togged  up  in  the  lot.'* 

"Hendrik  is  right!"  said  Daniel.  "Some 
savages  must  have  landed  on  the  island  shortly 
in  advance  of  us.  They  have  spied  on  us  and 
watched  us  hide  the  clothes,  to  which  they  have 
taken  a  fancy." 

"Well,  I'll  be  hanged!" 

Pieter  Goy  turned  quickly  towards  the  wood 
to  see  whether  he  could  not  catch  sight  of  a 
black  visage  in  the  act  of  spying  on  them  from 
behind  one  of  the  trees. 

"The  only  thing  I  don't  understand,"  said 
Hendrik  thoughtfully,  "is  why  they  have  left 
my  clothing  behind  when  they've  taken  all  the 
rest." 

In  spite  of  the  gravity  of  the  situation, 
Daniel  could  not  resist  a  joke: 

"I  suppose  they  had  better  taste!" 

Pieter  missed  the  point.  He  looked  up  and 
said  thoughtfully: 


ROUND  THE  WATCH-FIRE       127 

"If  they  have  better  taste  than  Hendrik,  they 
cannot  be  completely  savage." 

Hendrik  laughed  in  spite  of  himself.  He 
took  the  garments  from  Goy,  who  stood  with 
them  still  in  his  hand,  rolled  them  together  in 
a  bundle,  and  thrust  them  under  his  arm. 

"Is  he  to  have  them  all  himself?"  asked  Goy, 
looking  up  at  Daniel. 

"Give  me  one  of  your  turtles,  and  you  shall 
have  one  of  my  jerseys,"  proposed  Hendrik. 

Goy  agreed  instantly;  but  Daniel  remarked 
that  on  Sun  Island  communism  reigned.  Trade 
was  one  of  the  worst  institutions  of  the  old 
Society — one  of  the  things  from  which  they  had 
fled. 

Hendrik  protested;  but  Daniel  accused  him  of 
effeminacy.  Was  it  not  he  who  had  been  the 
keenest  of  them  all  for  natural  clothing?  He 
had,  indeed,  before  reaching  the  island,  bragged 
of  how  he  would  go  about  naked,  like  the  first 
human  beings. 

Finally  it  was  agreed — at  Pieter  Goy's  sug- 
gestion— that  Jakob  should  be  given  the  pants 
and  one  of  the  jerseys  on  account  of  his  feeble 
state  of  health. 

Jakob  put  the  clothes  on  at  once,  and  became 
quite  pink  in  the  face  as  he  felt  the  soft  wool 
on  his  poor  chilled  body. 

The  other  woollen  jersey  should  be  worn  by 
the  others  in  turn,  the  last  user  being  under  the 
obligation  of  washing  it  for  his  successor. 


128  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Daniel  was  to  have  it  first,  so  that  the  ice  in 
his  stomach  could  melt. 

The  rain  stopped,  but  the  air  continued  cold 
and  damp ;  and  the  prospect  of  having  to  manage 
without  extra  clothing  made  them  all  feel  more 
disheartened  than  they  would  have  liked  to 
admit. 

Hendrik  and  Pieter  went  away  together  to 
gather  wood  for  a  new  fire;  but  everything  was 
so  wet  that  it  was  found  impossible  to  make  it 
burn. 

"We  can  use  the  lid  of  the  green  chest,"  said 
Pieter;  "it's  of  no  use  now!" 

They  broke  up  the  lid  of  the  chest  and  got 
the  fire  started,  afterwards  laying  the  damp 
wood  on  top;  and  once  the  dampness  had  splut- 
tered, fizzed,  and  steamed  its  way  out,  a 
cheerful  bonfire  soon  blazed  in  front  of  the 
cave. 

But  in  spite  of  the  roaring  fire  the  general  at- 
mosphere was  one  of  despondency.  The  feeling 
of  no  longer  having  things  entirely  to  themselves 
put  the  Sun  Island  in  a  totally  different  light. 

They  no  longer  felt  themselves  its  masters. 
There  was  something  round  about  them,  perhaps 
in  their  immediate  neighbourhood,  which  med- 
itated evil  against  them.  And  they  were  de- 
fenceless. 

At  each  unexpected  sound  from  the  wood, 
their  eyes  searched  anxiously  among  the  trees. 


ROUND  THE  WATCH-FIRE       129 

Daniel  had  not  yet  finished  making  plans  for 
the  future,  when  Hendrik  lost  patience  and 
broke  the  silence. 

"Then  the  island  is  inhabited  after  all!"  he 
said,  with  a  sharp  glance  at  Daniel,  "and  we 
must,  first  and  foremost,  think  of  defending  our- 
selves. I  think  you  must  all  admit  that  the  best 
dwelling-place,  in  the  circumstances,  is  mine, 
because  it  lies  so  high  up  that  no  one  can  attack 
from  behind." 

"Yes,"  said  Jakob,  thinking  of  his  wretched 
shelter  of  plantain  shrubs. 

"It  is  not  certain,"  said  Daniel,  "that  the 
savages  wish  us  ill.  Probably  they  are  just  as 
much  afraid  of  us  as  we  are  of  them.  Perhaps 
more  so." 

"There  are  probably  also  very  few  of  them," 
said  Pieter,  "as  there  are  of  us.  Otherwise  it's 
extraordinary  that  none  of  us  has  seen  any  sign 
of  them.  We  have  all  travelled  over  the  island 
in  different  directions,  and  rummaged  about  all 
over  the  place  for  a  whole  week." 

"Why  should  they  do  us  harm?"  said  Jakob. 
"We  don't  harm  them." 

"That's  nonsense!"  said  Hendrik.  "One 
should  rather  say,  that  if  they  wish  us  ill  and 
spy  on  us,  why,  then,  have  they  not  already 
attacked  us?" 

It  began  to  grow  dark  under  the  trees.  The; 
thought  that  possibly  evil  eyes  lurked  there,  hid- 
den by  the  darkness,  while  they  themselves  sat: 


130  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

fully  exposed  around  the  fire,  made  them  feel  so 
uncomfortable  that  they  huddled  all  together  in 
a  bunch  under  the  bank,  and  agreed  that  each  one 
should  keep  a  look-out  in  a  different  direction  so 
as  to  discover  immediately  if  anything  suspicious 
appeared. 

But  after  Pieter  Goy  had  prepared  supper, 
the  warm  soup  and  coffee  made  them  again  strong 
and  courageous. 

They  talked  matters  over  quietly  and  sensibly, 
and  agreed  that  the  presence  of  danger  was  un- 
likely. The  savages  were  obviously  few  and 
cowardly.  Why  otherwise  had  they  covered  up 
the  entrance  to  the  cave  so  carefully,  instead  of 
taking  what  they  wanted  and  destroying  the  rest? 

But  as  it  seemed  probable  that  the  thieves 
would  come  again,  it  was  agreed  that  the  Sun 
Brethren  should  keep  watch  in  turns  during  the 
night,  loaded  gun  in  hand,  with  the  exception  of 
Jakob  Beer,  who  was  voted  too  weak. 

The  moment  anything  suspicious  occurred,  the 
others  were  to  be  roused  and  the  gun  fired  to 
frighten  the  enemy. 

The  night  passed  quietly.  Nothing  at  all  sus- 
picious occurred  and  the  gun  was  not  discharged. 

When  morning  came  the  wind  had  gone  down; 
the  weather  was  mild,  and  the  Sun  Brethren  felt 
merry  and  full  of  hope  once  more. 

Hendrik  made  jokes  about  the  poor  devils  who 
had  stolen  the  old  clothes,  and  looked  forward  to 


ROUND  THE  WATCH-FIRE        131 

witnessing  them  come  trotting  up  in  their  new 
finery. 

Pieter  Goy,  who  had  kept  the  dog-watch,  was 
so  happy  at  once  more  having  his  beloved  week- 
end gun  over  his  arm,  that  he  offered  to  remain 
at  the  meeting-place  for  another  day.  He  would 
give  the  impression  of  going  away  with  the  others, 
but  in  reality  would  lie  in  hiding  in  the  vicinity 
and  keep  a  look-out  for  trespassers.  For  it 
seemed  probable  that  whoever  had  spied  upon 
them  the  first  time  would  come  back  to  the  cave 
also  after  this  their  second  meeting,  if  for  no 
other  reason  than  curiosity. 

Thereupon  each  one  went  his  way. 

Goy  lay  in  hiding  in  the  plantain  thicket,  from 
which  he  had  a  good  view  of  the  mouth  of  the 
cave. 

He  lay  with  the  shot-gun  in  his  arms,  delighting 
in  its  company,  until,  overpowered  by  the  great 
heat,  he  fell  asleep  at  his  post. 

When  he  awoke,  the  day  was  well  advanced. 
He  jumped  up  and  looked  towards  the  cave;  but 
only  the  ashes  of  the  fire  were  to  be  seen,  exactly 
as  they  had  left  them. 

The  mouth  of  the  cave  was  stopped  with  stones 
and  foliage,  and  there  was  no  sign  at  all  of  human 
presence. 

He  was  hungry,  and  felt  strongly  tempted  to 
shoot  one  of  the  numerous  pigeons  flapping 
about  in  the  tree-tops;  but  he  desisted,  thinking 


132  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

it  might  scare  the  savages  if  they  were  on  their 
way.  Or  perhaps  his  comrades  would  hear  the 
shot  and  take  it  for  a  danger-signal. 

Besides,  it  was  much  easier  to  make  a  meal  of 
tinned  food.  He  could  not  be  expected  to  feel 
scruples  at  eating  from  the  stores  while  he 
remained  stationed  here  at  the  post  of  danger. 
A  sentinel  is  worthy  of  his  hire. 

He  therefore  walked  to  the  cave,  lighted  the 
fire,  opened  a  tin  of  food,  and  made  a  hearty 
meal. 

During  the  night  he  lay  down  and  slept  peace- 
fully, with  his  gun  by  his  side.  But  when  the 
next  morning  also  dawned  calm  and  cloudless, 
without  sign  of  hostile  operations,  he  grew  tired 
of  keeping  watch.  He  longed  to  return  home  to 
his  good  soft  mattress  and  his  dry  bamboo  house, 
missed  his  morning  bath,  and  was  afraid  that 
thieves  might  be  ravaging  his  home  while  he  lay 
waiting  for  them  here. 

He  equipped  himself  with  a  small  supply  of 
tinned  food  as  payment  for  his  inconvenience  and 
danger,  took  his  gun  with  him — there  had  been 
nothing  said  about  his  not  taking  it — together 
with  the  entire  supply  of  ammunition,  and  wan- 
dered through  the  wood  by  the  path  he  had  fol- 
lowed on  the  first  occasion,  until  he  reached  the 
waterfall.  Immediately  afterwards  he  found 
himself  at  home. 

The  bamboo  house  was  untouched.  All  was  as 
he  had  left  it.  But  Pieter  Goy  was  the  richer 
by  his  gun  and  ammunition. 


XVI:     "NATURE' 

AS  Jakob  Beer  wandered  home  to  his  sleep- 
ing-tree on  Monday  morning,  he  was 
feeling  considerably  less  cheerful  than  on 
the  first  occasion  when  he  plunged  into  the 
unknown. 

He  thought  of  the  savages  who  had  stolen  the 
clothes,  and  fancied  every  moment  that  he  saw 
brown  faces  staring  at  him  from  among  the  trees. 

But  presently,  as  the  clouds  dispersed  and  the 
light  grew  stronger,  while  the  warmth  sifted  down 
through  the  tree-tops,  his  state  of  mind  also  be- 
came less  gloomy. 

Soon  he  found  it  too  warm,  and  had  to  take  off 
Hendrik's  woollen  jersey  and  carry  it  on  his  arm. 

He  had  neglected  to  mark  the  path  to  his  plan- 
tain shrubs.  So  many  broken  lianas  were  to  be 
seen,  and  there  were  crowds  of  young  plantain 
shoots  standing  pressed  against  one  another  be- 
tween the  scattered  cocoa-nut  palms;  but  each 
time  he  approached  one  of  the  trees  he  found  it 
was  the  wrong  one. 

Then  he  returned  to  the  clearing,  which  was  all 
the  time  visible,  went  from  tree  to  tree,  and  tried 
a  new  direction;  but  the  result  was  the  same. 

He  threw  himself,  dead-beat,  under  some 
shrubs,  ate  what  he  had  left  over  from  Sunday, 

133 


134  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

drank  rain-water  which  had  collected  in  the  deep, 
dark-green,  cuplike  leaves,  and  fell  asleep. 

When  he  awoke,  the  sun  was  sinking.  The 
clearing  was  almost  covered  with  shadows  from 
the  wood.  He  became  again  frightened  of  the 
savages,  and  imagined  he  could  hear  their 
stealthy  footsteps  through  the  undergrowth. 

He  stared  and  stared,  until  his  eyes  ran  water 
and  his  heart  beat  so  violently  that  he  could  hear 
it.  Then  he  pulled  himself  together  and  deter- 
mined on  a  last  attempt. 

He  hurried  back  to  the  clearing,  and  peered 
round  after  the  cocoa-nut-tree  stem  which  he 
remembered  seeing  on  his  first  passage  through 
the  wood.  It  had  allured  him  with  its  slim,  pale 
beauty,  standing  amid  all  the  dark  green.  But 
on  that  occasion  the  sun  had  shone  on  it;  now  it 
was  nearly  night. 

He  turned  from  one  side  to  the  other  until  he 
felt  quite  confused. 

In  the  sky  immediately  above  him  still  remained 
a  glimpse  of  day.  Darkness  stared  at  him  from 
between  the  tree-trunks  surrounding  the  clearing 
on  every  side. 

He  thought  of  his  priceless  violin,  now  perhaps 
lost  forever.  What,  then,  remained  in  life  for 
him?  Of  what  use  to  him  the  gentle  whisper  of 
the  palms,  the  deep  innocence  of  the  green  shad- 
ows, the  birds  twittering  over  the  hanging  fruit, 
when  he  had  no  means  to  glorify  them! 

He  began  to  weep,  and  wished  himself  with  all 


"NATURE"  135 


his  heart   once  more  back  in  the  old  country. 

It  was  now  quite  dark.  He  was  so  exhausted 
with  emotion  and  his  wanderings  that  he  had 
barely  strength  left  to  creep  in  on  all  fours  among 
some  young  stems. 

He  put  on  Hendrik's  jersey,  rolled  the  blanket 
round  him,  and  arranged  himself  as  best  he  could 
under  the  dense  roof  of  leaves,  with  his  back 
against  the  elastic  stems  and  his  thin  legs  doubled 
up  beneath  him.  He  sat  thus  as  still  as  a  mouse, 
listening  breathlessly  to  every  sound,  until  at  last 
exhaustion  overwhelmed  him  and  forced  him  to 
sleep. 

When  he  awoke  at  daybreak,  his  limbs  were  so 
stiff  from  his  cramped  position  that  they  hurt  him 
terribly  when  he  moved;  but  he  was  thoroughly 
warmed  through  in  the  stifling  air,  beads  of  per- 
spiration standing  on  his  forehead. 

He  looked  round  in  astonishment  and  knew  not 
where  he  was.  Not  until  later  did  he  remember 
the  events  of  the  previous  evening.  He  thought 
of  his  lost  violin  and  began  again  to  weep. 

The  light  increased.  The  parrots  shrieked 
good  morning  high  up  above  his  head.  Over  in  the 
tops  of  the  bread-fruit  trees  gasping  and  whistling 
noises  began.  The  branches  rocked  and  whipped 
upwards.  The  vampire  bats — he  imagined 
them  to  be  birds — unfolded  their  flying-membrane 
and  burst  their  way  up  through  the  great  leaves.. 

As   he   lay   looking   despondently   among   the 


136  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

young  plantain  stems  surrounding  his  sleeping- 
place,  his  eye  fell  on  a  slim,  pale  cocoa-nut  palm 
slanting  up  through  the  thicket  close  by. 

It  was  the  tree  which  on  one  of  the  first  days 
he  had  endeavoured  to  climb,  tempted  by  the  ripe 
fruit  which  hung  in  clusters  under  the  fan-shaped 
leaves. 

He  must,  then,  be  quite  close  to  his  old  sleep- 
ing place ! 

He  sprang  up  with  beating  heart,  thrust  his 
way  through  herbs,  grass,  and  lianas,  until  he 
reached  the  cocoa-nut  palm. 

Barely  fifty  yards  from  the  place  where  the 
night  before  he  had  lain  down  in  despair  to  rest, 
the  plantain  palms  strutted  with  their  waving 
leaves;  and  there  through  the  trunks  he  could  see 
the  heap  of  foliage  under  which  he  had  hidden  his 
knapsack  and  violin. 

Shouting  aloud  with  glee  he  ran  to  the  spot. 
He  clasped  the  violin-case  in  his  arms  and  kissed 
it  as  if  it  were  a  loved  child  returned  from  the 
dead. 

He  smiled  to  his  plantain  tree.  The  island  was 
once  more  kind  and  cheerful.  It  gazed  at  him 
with  glowing  eyes,  fresh  from  its  night's  slumber, 
while  the  parrots  over  his  head  guffawed  loudly  at 
the  good  joke,  as  if  it  had  been  they  who  had  led 
him  astray. 

Jakob  thought  of  neither  food  nor  drink.  He 
lay  down  on  his  back  against  a  tree-stem,  opened 


"NATURE"  137 


his  violin-case,  and  tuned  the  precious  instrument. 

With  eyes  looking  up  into  the  top  of  the  cocoa- 
nut  palm  with  its  clusters  of  nuts,  which  from  the 
ground  looked  so  insignificant,  his  long,  thin  fin- 
gers played  the  joyful  music  of  meeting  out  over 
the  island  from  his  grateful  soul. 

The  parrots  became  silent  in  amazement. 
They  swarmed  into  the  neighbouring  trees,  flew 
down  to  the  lowermost  branches,  and  sat  with 
outstretched  necks  watching  the  weird  animal  that 
writhed  beneath. 

The  trees  also  seemed  to  listen.  The  plantain 
shrubs  relaxed  and  held  their  breath  in  wonder. 
The  cocoa-nut  palm  stretched  his  leaf-fingers  up  in 
the  air  as  if  hushing  his  fellows  in  the  wood. 

The  animal  with  the  glassy  eyes,  which  had  not 
until  now  felt  any  respect  for  Jakob,  came  forth 
from  its  tree-stump,  sat  down  on  its  tail,  and 
thrust  its  cleft  tongue  in  and  out  after  the  sound. 

The  very  moment  he  ceased  playing  the  parrots 
began  again  to  shriek.  They  flew  aloft  and  made 
a  terrible  din  as  if  offended.  Or  perhaps  they 
wished  to  show  that  they  could  do  it  equally  well 
themselves. 

Jakob  remarked  now  that  he  was  hungry.  He 
skirmished  round  to  find  something  to  eat  And 
lo ! — when  he  reached  the  cocoa-nut  palm,  there 
lay  on  the  grass,  shaken  down  by  the  Sunday's 
wind,  three  fresh  cocoa-nuts,  as  big  as  children's 
heads.  He  dug  the  eyes  out  of  one  of  them  with 


138  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

his  pocket  knife,  drank  the  cool  cocoa-nut  wine, 
and  ate  some  of  the  fresh  kernel.  It  was  his 
breakfast. 

He  felt  lighthearted  and  happy,  and  resolved 
to  build  a  house  like  Pieter  Goy's. 

He  explored  the  wood  until  he  found  a  tree 
with  straight  branches.  These  he  chopped  off; 
and  when  he  had  collected  a  bundle  of  them,  he 
marked  off  a  square  on  the  ground,  went  down  on 
his  knees  and  cleared  it  of  weeds  as  well  as  he 
was  able. 

Then  he  placed  a  branch  at  each  corner,  ham- 
mering them  into  the  soft  earth  with  the  reversed 
axe. 

Whilst  he  stood  admiring  his  work,  a  bird  be- 
gan to  sing  above  his  head. 

It  was  a  combination  of  flute  and  'cello — 
three  long,  deep  notes  succeeded  by  a  twittering 
flat,  so  triumphant  and  beautiful,  as  only  the  sun- 
glowing,  joy-vibrating  throat  of  a  bird  can  give 
it  forth. 

Forgetting  his  work  he  looked  up  in  the  air;  but 
it  was  impossible  to  see  the  happy  songster. 

He  listened  with  beaming  eyes  and  open  mouth. 
It  was  as  if  the  notes  poured  from  the  throbbing 
heart  of  Nature  herself. 

It  was  Love  singing  his  spell.  Love  calling, 
rejoicing,  alluring, — asking  and  importuning. 
Jakob  had  found  the  elemental  notes  of  which  he 
had  dreamt  so  long. 

At  last  it  was  silent.     Then  from  an  adjacent 


"NATURE"  139 


tree  another  bird  voice  answered,  briefly,  sweetly, 
half  intoxicated,  tinged  with  pain. 

It  broke  off  in  the  middle  of  a  chord,  and  im- 
mediately the  first  one  burst  in  with  victory  in  its 
voice,  whilst  the  gentle  swishing  of  the  palm-fin- 
gers played  accompaniment  as  on  a  ghostly  zither. 

It  was  Nature's  own  music,  with  its  broken  and 
breaking  chords,  mocking  all  the  rules  of  har- 
mony, and  yet  in  its  mysterious,  unfathomable 
code  giving  utterance  not  to  mere  love  of  Life  and 
Nature,  as  understood  by  human  ears  and  born  in 
pain  on  a  dead  instrument — no  it  was  Life,  it  was 
Nature  itself  expressed  in  terms  of  sound. 

Oh,  if  only  he  could  succeed  in  gathering  these 
tones  into  his  soul,  so  that  they  might  push  out  all 
the  laboriously  acquired  things  now  clinging  there 
— so  that  it  be  not  he  playing  of  Life,  but  Life  let- 
ting its  primal  notes  sound  through  him,  even  as 
they  sounded  through  this  happy,  ignorant,  uncon- 
trolled bird-throat. 

He  sank  down,  sick  with  longing,  listening  to 
his  own  soul,  to  see  whether  Nature  even  now  an- 
swered itself  through  him. 

But  it  was  silent,  deserted.  He  closed  his  eyes 
in  pain,  and  sought  to  recall  to  his  mind  the  bird 
notes.  In  vain.  It  was  as  if  they  fled  shyly  be- 
fore all  the  artificial  music,  all  the  superfluous 
knowledge  that  crowded  the  convolutions  of  his 
brain. 

He   did   not  despair.     He   would  prepare   a 


140  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

house  inside  him  for  the  tones  and  wait  patiently 
until  they  came  and  took  possession  of  their  own 
accord. 

It  should  be  a  symphony.  "Nature" — simply 
"Nature" — it  should  be  called. 

In  it  should  be  heard  the  low  whistle  of  palms, 
the  love-song  of  birds,  the  sun's  play  on  smooth 
green  surface,  the  drip  of  raindrops  from  leaf 
to  leaf,  the  ripening  of  fruit — all  these  and  more 
should  be  there,  played  with  Nature's  own  divine 
chords  alone. 

This  work  should  be  accomplished  through 
him.  For  this  alone  Destiny  had  brought  him 
to  the  island. 


XVII:     THE   GLANCE    OF 
SOLITUDE 

WHEN  at  last  Jakob  opened  his  eyes 
again  to  his  surroundings,  he  looked 
in  astonishment  at  the  four  poles 
which  stood  there  looking  questioningly  at  him. 

"What  on  earth  are  they  for?"  he  thought. 
Then  he  remembered  that  he  had  been  about  to 
build  a  house,  dry  and  safe  like  Pieter  Goy's. 

He  had  no  desire  at  all  to  continue.  Such 
things  seemed  so  superfluous  now  that  he  had 
found  the  one  great  thing  he  had  sought  and 
which  now  awaited  him — the  symphony. 

"Heaven  knows  I  am  not  cut  out  for  practical 
work,"  he  thought,  and  gave  up  the  house  with 
a  sigh. 

He  was  tired  and  his  head  ached.  He  lay 
down  on  his  back,  and  stared  up  towards  the 
leafy  sky,  which  was  already  growing  dark. 

The  birds  were  silent.  Not  a  breath  of  wind 
stirred.  The  leaves  hung  as  if  listening  with 
bated  breath. 

As  he  lay  there  in  the  deep  silence,  seeking 
vainly  to  call  forth  the  sound-dreams  again,  an 
overpowering  feeling  of  oppression  seized  him. 

It  was    as    if   some    nameless   danger   lay   in 

141 


142  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

wait  near  him.  He  raised  himself  on  his  elbows 
and  looked  fearfully  around. 

But  the  tree-stems  stood  motionless,  with 
the  empty  semi-darkness  between — both  the  old 
wrinkled  trunks  with  their  thick  foliage  of  in- 
terwoven creepers,  and  the  slim  cocoa-nut  stems, 
rising  slantwise  as  if  seeking  support  for  their 
heavy  fruit. 

He  spoke  aloud  to  reassure  himself;  but  it  was 
of  no  use.  The  oppression  did  not  leave  him 
until  he  had  got  up  and  thoroughly  explored 
the  bushes  in  the  vicinity. 

Next  morning  he  awoke  feeling  ravenously 
hungry.  He  hurried  to  the  cocoa-nut  tree  and 
picked  up  the  nuts  which  had  fallen  during  the 
night;  but  the  milk  and  cocoa-nut  meat  failed  to 
satisfy  him. 

He  then  went  towards  the  bread-fruit  trees 
where  a  few  days  before  he  had  found  the  birds' 
eggs.  Close  in  against  the  stem,  covered  by  the 
thick  foliage  of  creepers,  he  had  seen  the  almost 
spherical  nests. 

For  a  long  time  he  fumbled  in  vain  with  his 
thin  fingers  among  the  leaves;  then  suddenly  a 
shrieking  bird  flapped  past  his  head. 

He  looked  up  and  saw  that  he  had  been 
searching  too  low  down.  Higher  up,  the  trunk 
was  streaked  with  traces  of  the  birds,  as  were 
the  other  trees  near  by. 

Clinging  to  the  tough  cords  of  creeper,  which 


THE  GLANCE  OF  SOLITUDE      143 

here  and  there  broke  loose  from  their  support, 
he  clambered  up  until  he  reached  the  white 
stripes. 

A  moment  later  the  air  was  filled  with  in- 
furiated birds  about  as  big  as  pigeons.  They 
whirled  round  and  round  his  head,  shrieking 
through  their  small  yellow  beaks,  but  not  daring 
to  come  nearer  than  arm's  length. 

Here  under  the  foliage  ranged  nest  after  nest, 
packed  so  closely  together  that  they  presented 
an  almost  continuous  outer  wall.  He  had  only 
to  put  out  his  hand  and  take. 

Jakob  felt  sorry  for  the  screaming  mothers  as 
they  hung  in  the  air  flapping  their  dark-blue 
wings.  He  would  fain  have  taken  but  one  egg 
from  each  nest.  But  their  entrances  faced  to- 
wards the  tree-stem  and  were  not  large  enough 
to  admit  his  hand,  so  that  he  was  compelled  to 
destroy  the  entire  home. 

He  collected  as  many  as  he  could  carry.  On 
each  tree,  about  twelve  feet  from  the  ground, 
there  was  a  broad  belt  of  bird  droppings,  as  if 
a  bricklayer  had  been  white-washing  the  foliage 
above  and  had  splashed  about  with  his  brush. 

Jakob  fetched  water  from  the  little  pond  in 
the  clearing,  lighted  a  fire,  and  cooked  his  eggs. 
They  were  hard-boiled,  but  nevertheless  tasted 
splendid,  eaten  together  with  fresh  cocoa-nut 
milk  and  half-ripe  bananas. 

The  same  thing  happened  as  on  the  day  before. 
As  the  morning  progressed,  Nature  started  tuning 


144  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

its  bird  throats,  palm  fingers,  plantain  leaves,  in- 
sect wings.  Then  the  full  orchestra  played, 
while  Jakob  listened  with  parted  lips  and  half- 
closed  eyes. 

After  the  midday  meal,  his  thoughts  turned 
again  to  "Nature,"  his  great  symphony;  he  took 
out  his  violin  and  began  to  grope  on  the  strings, 
while  the  birds  became  silent,  listening  in  aston- 
ishment. 

When  at  last,  exhausted,  he  returned  to  earth 
from  his  kingdom  of  sound  and  stretched  him- 
self on  the  grass,  his  eyes  towards  the  sky  of 
leaves,  the  same  mysterious  oppression  as  before 
again  made  itself  felt. 

He  started  up,  sure  there  was  something  hidden 
among  the  stems. 

Suddenly  he  realized  that  it  was  Solitude, 
watching  him  with  its  huge,  vacant  stare. 

He  talked  loudly  to  himself  to  drive  it  away. 
There  was  no  echo,  and  yet  it  seemed  to  him  that 
the  wood  nevertheless  repeated  his  words, 
whispering  them  back  to  him  in  a  changed  voice 
which  he  could  not  recognize. 

He  went  early  to  rest,  but  lay  for  a  long  time 
wakeful,  listening  fearfully  to  the  mysterious 
noises  which  night  sprinkles  down  on  the  sleep- 
less. 

Several  days  passed  in  exactly  the  same  manner. 

As  long  as  he  remained  in  his  sound-kingdom, 
fumbling  after  "Nature" — his  great  symphony — 
he  was  happy.  But  hardly  had  environment 


THE  GLANCE  OF  SOLITUDE      145 

once  more  taken  him  in  its  grasp  than  Solitude 
sat  down  and  stared  at  him  until  his  heart  con- 
tracted with  uncontrollable  terror. 

One  evening  he  was  tortured  with  an  over- 
whelming longing  for  his  comrades;  but  it  was 
only  Thursday.  There  were  two  whole  days 
and  three  long  nights  still  to  pass. 

On  Friday  the  feeling  grew  worse. 

He  awoke  with  the  oppression  in  his  heart. 
Immediately  after  breakfast  he  took  out  his  violin 
to  escape  from  his  thoughts.  He  played  vio- 
lently, madly,  old  hackneyed  tunes,  but  he  knew  all 
the  while  he  was  playing  to  escape;  and  therefore 
he  failed. 

When  at  last,  perspiration  covering  his  brow, 
he  lowered  the  violin  and  let  his  eyes  wander 
hopelessly  among  the  trees,  he  shrank  back  in 
terror. 

He  thought  he  saw  himself,  little  and  crooked 
in  his  old  lost  coat,  steal  to  one  side  behind  the 
ancient  tree  in  which  he  had  found  the  birds'  nests. 

He  remained  sitting  for  a  long  while,  white 
and  rigid,  staring  after  the  vision,  his  heart  ham- 
mering at  his  ribs. 

"I  am  mad!"  he  thought.  "Solitude  has 
turned  my  brain!" 

Then  he  rushed  to  his  sleeping-tree.  Scarcely 
conscious  of  what  he  was  doing,  he  grabbed  some 
bananas,  filled  one  of  the  spherical  nests  with  eggs 
and  thrust  it  in  his  breast,  covering  up  his  fruit 
and  belongings  with  blanket  and  knapsack. 


146  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Only  the  violin  he  could  not  leave  behind;  he  put 
it  in  its  case  and  flung  it  over  his  shoulder. 

Without  daring  to  look  back,  he  hurried 
through  the  thicket  to  the  clearing,  paused  a 
moment  to  make  certain  of  his  way,  and  dis- 
appeared on  the  opposite  side  by  the  path  lead- 
ing to  the  meeting-place. 


XVIII  :    A   COSY   HOME 

PIETER  GOY  sat  in  the  sun  before  his  bam- 
boo house  weaving  a  fishing-net  of  plantain 
threads,  at  the  same  time  whistling  the 
last  barrel-organ   tune   acquired  before   leaving 
Amsterdam. 

Suddenly  he  heard  a  crashing  in  the  under- 
growth behind  him,  as  of  a  large  animal  approach- 
ing. 

This  was  something  quite  new.  He  jumped 
up,  seized  his  gun  from  its  resting-place  behind 
the  open  bamboo  door,  and  peered  out  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound.  It  came  from  the  wood 
above  the  cliff  against  which  his  house  leaned. 

"Here's  a  nice  to-do!"  he  thought.  "Then 
there  are  large  animals  on  the  island  after  all." 

He  expected  every  moment  to  see  a  hungry 
lion  open  its  ravenous  maw  on  the  cliff-top  over 
his  head,  ready  to  spring. 

With  beating  heart  he  made  sure  that  both 
barrels  were  loaded,  felt  his  pocket  to  see  that 
the  cartridges  were  there,  and  tested  the  triggers. 
Then,  walking  backwards,  he  retreated  across 
the  cleared  space  before  his  hut  until  he  reached 
the  thicket.  Here  he  concealed  himself  and 
waited,  ready  to  shoot,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  bushes 
at  the  top  of  the  cliff. 

147 


148  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Then  he  heard  the  puffing  and  blowing  of  a 
human  being.  He  saw  something  light  and  parti- 
coloured moving  in  the  sun-rays  through  the  thick 
undergrowth,  and  a  moment  later  recognized 
Jakob  Beer's  narrow  face  and  wide  straw 
hat. 

There  followed  a  delighted  exchange  of  greet- 
ings. 

Jakob  was  just  as  glad  to  have  at  last  reached 
his  destination — he  had  followed  the  path  all  the 
way  from  their  meeting-place — as  Pieter  was  re- 
lieved that  his  visitor  was  not  a  dangerous  beast 
of  prey. 

The  cripple's  eyes  opened  wide,  as,  guided  by 
Pieter,  he  arrived  before  the  house. 

Of  such  luxury  he  had  not  dreamed.  Not  only 
was  there  a  strongly-made,  spacious  bamboo 
house,  finished  off  with  leaves  and  bast,  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  real  courtyard,  but  there  were,  in 
addition,  chopping-block,  chair,  three-legged 
table,  and  a  stone  fireplace  with  a  hook  on  which 
to  hang  the  cooking-pot.  The  door  fitted  closely 
both  at  top  and  bottom,  so  that  neither  insects 
nor  draught  could  force  an  entry. 

And  what  a  bed  Pieter  Goy  had!  Jakob 
stretched  himself  out  at  full  length  on  the  soft, 
woven  spring-mattress. 

In  the  yard  there  was  a  small  shed  with  lean-to 
roof  resting  against  the  cliff.  In  it  lay  chopped- 
up  wood  all  ready  to  be  put  on  the  fire. 

Before  the  house  stood  three  young  saplings 


A  COSY  HOME  149 

in  a  triangle;  between  them  was  stretched  a  sail 
plaited  of  long  dark-green  leaves. 

"This  is  my  awning,"  explained  Pieter  with 
pride;  "here  I  can  sit  in  the  shade  with  my  work 
and  see  right  down  to  the  shore  through  the 
trees." 

But  best  of  all  was  the  food-cupboard.  It  was 
fixed  on  four  poles  in  the  angle  formed  by  the 
house  and  the  face  of  the  cliff,  so  that  never  a  ray 
of  sun  reached  it.  The  chinks  in  the  wall  were 
stopped  with  bast  both  internally  and  externally, 
so  that  no  insect  could  enter;  but  the  door  and  one 
of  the  sides  were  woven  of  the  thinnest  liana 
threads  as  fine  as  fly-netting,  permitting  the  air  to 
percolate  freely. 

Here  lay  bananas,  dried  roots,  and  fresh  cocoa- 
nuts.  The  empty  shells  were  used  for  bowls,  in 
which  Pieter  kept  food  left  over  from  one  meal 
to  another.  Finally  there  were  hanging  three 
tender  young  birds, — of  the  sort  Jakob  knew  so 
well, — with  a  bump  on  the  reddish-yellow  beak. 

Outside  in  the  yard  was  stretched  a  liana  cord 
between  house  and  shed.  On  it  hung  some  large 
leaves  drying  in  the  sun;  they  were  already  be- 
ginning to  turn  brown. 

"My  tobacco!"  said  Pieter,  fingering  them 
affectionately. 

"Now  you  shall  have  a  real  good  feed!"  said 
he,  rubbing  his  hands  together  delightedly. 

Whilst  he  lit  the  fire,  Jakob  was  given  one  of 
the  birds  to  pluck. 


150  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

"Daniel  should  know  about  this!"  Pieter  look- 
ed up  and  winked. 

"For  you're  not  ill,  are  you?" 

Jakob  was  too  ashamed  to  confess  his  fear  of 
being  alone. 

"No,  I  am  not  ill,  Pieter,  and  really  it  is  wrong 
of  me  to  come  here  to  you — it's  against  the  law, 
of  course.  But  the  point  is — " 

Jakob  racked  his  brain  to  find  an  excuse.  His 
eyes  fell  on  the  splendid  house. 

"The  point  is  that  I  have  such  a  wretched  place 
to  live  in.  My  sleeping-place  in  the  bushes  has 
neither  roof  nor  walls,  only  flapping  leaves  which 
drip  on  to  my  face  when  it  has  rained  during  the 
day.  And  there  are  draughts  from  every  direc- 
tion, so  that  I  have  to  sleep  with  my  head  under 
the  blanket  to  escape  toothache.  I  haven't  a  soft 
matress  to  lie  on  like  you,  worse  luck." 

"Why  don't  you  build  a  proper  house?" 

"That's  easier  said  than  done.  There  are  no 
bamboo  canes  over  in  my  direction." 

"There  must  be  some  trees  with  long  straight 
branches." 

"Yes,  there  are;  but  I  don't  understand  that 
sort  of  thing,  Pieter.  Just  imagine  it  being  so 
difficult  to  build  a  house  with  walls  and  roof  and 
everything!  I  have  tried  it;  but  I  couldn't  make 
things  fit,  and  so  I  gave  up." 

Pieter  lay  down  and  blew  thoughtfully  at  the 
fire,  the  fuel  of  which  was  not  yet  quite  dry. 


A  COSY  HOME  151 

"What  a  pity!"  said  he,  getting  up.  "A 
house  one  must  have,  and  a  roof  over  one's  head; 
even  if  Daniel  does  call  it  Sun  Island  neverthe- 
less—" 

"Just  think,  Pieter;  if  only  you  could  come 
over  with  me  and  make  it  for  me!" 

Pieter  glanced  sharply  at  Jakob,  as  he  sat  all 
huddled  together,  his  crooked  back  curved  over 
the  bird  on  his  lap. 

"What  a  way  to  pluck  a  bird !"  he  said.  "See 
— 50 — and  50,  with  little,  quick  jerks." 

Pieter  scratched  his  flaxen  yellow  hair  doubt- 
fully; it  was  bleached  by  the  sun  and  had  begun 
to  curl  round  his  ears.  He  pondered  the  sug- 
gestion while  he  filled  the  pot  with  fresh  water 
from  a  cocoa-nut  shell. 

"It  would  never  do!"  said  he  finally;  "suppos- 
ing the  others  came  to  hear  of  it!  But  you  can 
just  see  here  how  I  have  made  mine." 

Jakob  let  his  gaze  wander  up  and  down  the 
bamboo  walls,  and  sighed. 

Pieter  prepared  a  splendid  bird  soup  with 
roots  and  herbs,  while  Jakob  moved  his  chair 
nearer  the  fireplace  and  snuffed  in  the  delicious 
odour  that  bubbled  up  from  the  pot. 

"It  smells  good — what?" 

Pieter  rubbed  his  hands,  showing  all  the  dim- 
ples in  his  fat  face,  which  glistened  with  count- 
less drops  of  sweat. 

"What's  that  you  have  under  your  shirt?" 


152  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Jakob  had  quite  forgotten  the  eggs.  He 
pulled  out  the  nest.  It  was  a  little  crushed,  so 
that  some  of  them  were  broken. 

"Eggsl" 

Pieter's  eyes  lit  up  as  he  carefully  extracted 
them. 

"Have  you  many  of  these  at  home?" 

"Many  more  than  I  can  eat.  The  nests  are 
so  close  together  that  they  touch." 

"Some  people  have  luck!  Now  you  shall  see 
what  a  soup  it  will  be!  Eggs!  They're  just 
what  I  have  been  looking  for  all  the  time." 

Pieter  broke  the  shells  and  poured  both  white 
and  yolk  into  the  saucepan.  Splendidly  fresh 
they  were,  with  yellow  yolks,  like  real  little 
bantams'  eggs. 

"Chicken  soup  with  eggs!"  said  Pieter,  as  he 
served  it  to  Jakob  in  a  cup. 

For  one  melancholy  moment  he  thought  of 
the  Lions'  Den's  dirty  yellow  walls.  Then,  sip- 
ping the  hot  soup,  he  said: 

"Now  all  that's  wanting  is  a  good  Dutch 
schnapps!" 

He  stared  before  him,  wiped  his  eyes,  and 
sighed.  Then  he  fell  to  thinking  of  what  Jakob 
had  said  about  the  eggs. 

When  Pieter  had  gnawed  his  last  bone  clean, 
he  wiped  his  mouth  thoughtfully  with  the  back  of 
his  hand  and  said: 

"It's  not  that  I  don't  want  to  help  you,  Jakob." 


A  COSY  HOME  153 

"Of  course,  I  understand  perfectly.  Don't 
let  us  say  any  more  about  it!" 

Jakob  looked  guiltily  downwards.  He  re- 
pented that  he  had  tried  to  tempt  Pieter  to 
treachery  against  the  holy  laws  of  solitude  and 
self-help. 

"But,  on  the  other  hand,"  continued  Pieter, 
undisturbed,  "I  cannot  allow  that  you,  who  have 
a  weak  back  and  are  generally  rather  delicate, 
shall  remain  without  shelter  and  sleep  badly — 
and  supposing  it  begins  to  rain  again ?" 

"I  shall  manage  somehow.  A  law  is  a  law, 
as  Daniel  says." 

"Puh,  Daniel!"  exclaimed  Pieter,  wrinkling 
his  nose  and  scratching  his  mosquito  bites.  "It's 
always  Daniel  this  and  Daniel  that!" 

Jakob  looked  at  him,  horrified.  It  was  not 
like  Pieter  to  be  so  lacking  in  respect. 

Pieter  Goy  turned  red  and  drew  in  his  horns. 

"I  mean  only — that  laws  and  such  things  are 
all  very  well;  but,  hang  it,  health  is  the  most 
important.  Heaven  save  us,  all  respect  for 
Daniel! — I  have  never  meant  otherwise — but 
neither  he  nor  Hendrik  will  suffer  injury  even  if 
I  do  help  you  with  your  house..  In  fact,  it's  my 
duty,  I  had  almost  said;  the  stronger  shall  help 
the  weaker." 

Jakob,  as  he  sat  there  so  warm  and  comfort- 
able, before  a  genuine  house  and  on  a  real  chair, 
understood  now  for  the  first  time  what  a  miser- 


154  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

able  existence  he  had  endured  in  the  last  days. 

He  realized  quite  suddenly  that  he  must  have 

a  proper  house.     Therefore  he  no  longer  opposed 

Pieter,  but  thanked  him  for  his  noble-minded- 


ness. 

u 


The  others  need  know  nothing  about  itl" 
said  Pieter,  yawning. 

Jakob  felt  the  impulse  to  do  something  for  him 
in  return. 

"Now  you  shall  hear  my  masterpiece!"  he 
said,  taking  out  his  violin. 

"Yes,  let's  have  some  music." 

Pieter  lay  down  at  full  length  in  the  shadow  of 
the  sun-sail;  while  Jakob,  leaning  back  against 
the  bamboo  door,  tuned  the  strings,  and  began  to 
play  the  first  fumbling  notes  of  his  great  sym- 
phony. 

He  sat  with  half-closed  eyes  and  played  his 
soul  out  through  his  finger-tips,  while  all  around 
him  was  silence. 

When  at  last  he  lowered  his  bow  and  turned 
towards  his  audience,  he  found  Pieter  sound 
asleep  in  the  grass  with  his  hands  under  his  head. 

Jakob  looked  down  at  him  with  a  patient,  dis- 
appointed smile.  At  the  same  moment  Pieter 
awoke.  "Yes,  that  was  very  pretty,"  he  said, 
and  yawned. 

Shortly  afterwards  they  broke  camp  and  went 
off  together.  Before  evening  Pieter  Goy  had 


A  COSY  HOME  155 

made  Jakob  a  house  in  front  of  his  plantain 
shrubs. 

It  was  rather  jerry-built,  not  nearly  so  well 
constructed  as  Pieter's  own  house;  but  it  was,  at 
any  rate,  roof  and  walls,  and  inside  was  laid  out 
a  couch  of  leaves  and  moss. 

Darkness  fell  before  Pieter  had  finished;  he 
had  to  stay  the  night  with  Jakob. 

When  Pieter  awoke  next  morning  and  had 
stretched  his  limbs  thoroughly,  his  first  thought 
was  of  the  birds'  nests. 

Jakob  showed  him  the  trees.  Pieter  crept 
aloft.  With  the  birds  shrieking  and  flapping 
round  his  ears  so  that  Jakob's  heart  bled,  he  stole 
as  many  as  he  could  get  hold  of.  Then  he  ex- 
amined the  tree  minutely  so  as  to  recognize  it 
again  if  he  met  it  on  his  path. 

"I  shall  take  these  home  with  me,"  he  said,  and 
made  a  bag  out  of  some  plantain  leaves. 

As  he  stood  waving  farewell  through  the  tree- 
stems,  Jakob's  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"I  shall  come  again  all  right  some  other  time," 
said  Pieter,  glancing  towards  the  nesting-tree. 
"And  we  won't  say  anything  to  the  others." 

Jakob  sighed  deeply.  It  was  deceitful  and 
ignominious,  he  thought;  but  Pieter  must  take  the 
responsibility. 

Solitude  no  longer  held  terrors  for  him.  It 
was  as  if  it  were  afraid  of  Pieter  and  his  capable 


156  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

hands,  his  good-natured  round  eyes  and  his 
sound  sleeping  powers;  as  if  it  dared  not  return 
as  long  as  the  force  of  his  personality  filled  the 
house  which  he  had  built  for  Jakob. 


XIX  :   GENIUS 

LIFE  was  glorious  on  the  Sun  Island;  but 
Hendrik  Koort  nevertheless  crept  down 
from  his  eagle's  nest  in  the  tall  tree. 

The  fact  was  that  he  could  not  escape  the 
monkeys.  It  did  not  help  him  at  all  that  Daniel 
assured  him,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  that  the  vola- 
tile creatures  which  he  had  seen  running  up  and 
down  the  trees  the  very  first  day  they  arrived 
existed  only  in  his  own  thick  head.  Hendrik 
heard  them  all  the  same,  breathing  in  the  branches 
above  him,  whenever  he  lay  sleepless  at  night. 
He  thought  he  caught  glimpses  of  them  in  bunches 
among  the  palm  foliage,  and  expected  every 
moment  to  feel  a  cocoa-nut  on  his  cranium. 

He  descended  therefore  from  his  lofty  perch, 
and  made  a  new  retreat  in  a  hollow,  windfallen 
tree  near  by. 

But  on  the  first  occasion  rheumatism  kept  him 
awake,  he  heard  rustling  and  whistling  noises  in 
the  layer  of  moss  beneath  him. 

He  felt  sure  that  the  animal  with  the  glassy 
eyes  had  at  last  located  him.  Perhaps  it  had 
moved  into  the  floor  beneath  and  was  afraid  of 
the  roof  being  pressed  down  on  itself  and  its 
young. 

iS7 


158  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

He  emptied  his  nest  right  down  to  the  bark, 
rummaged  and  ransacked  in  every  hole  and 
cranny.  Only  when  he  found  nothing  at  all  suspi- 
cious did  he  at  last  secure  peace  of  mind. 

He  cut  a  path  in  the  undergrowth  right  round 
the  tree.  Here  he  took  exercise  of  an  evening  in 
the  moonlight,  or  else  pulled  himself  up  by  the  li- 
anas, with  arms  bent  and  thick  legs  stuck  straight 
out,  until  the  sweat  poured  off  him,  and  he  was 
so  exhausted  that  he  fell  asleep  the  moment  he  lay 
down. 

Hendrik  had  at  last  begun  to  paint.  He  sat 
hour  after  hour  in  the  shade  of  an  ancient  fan- 
palm,  staring  with  screwed-up  eyes  after  the  ele- 
mental colours  which  no  human  eye  had  seen. 

He  was  not  altogether  successful.  Although 
he  saw  the  colours,  they  escaped  him  on  the  way 
between  his  eye  and  his  hand;  and  those  that  did 
appear  on  the  canvas,  both  he  and  others  had 
seen  before. 

He  sat  there,  butting  with  bulging  forehead, 
his  red  hair  bristling  towards  the  fan-palm  which 
looked  on  in  silence.  He  fought  the  good  fight 
until  the  shirt  clung  to  his  back,  but  nevertheless 
he  failed. 

Then  he  would  fling  the  brush  disconsolately 
from  him,  and  throw  himself  sighing  and  grum- 
bling on  the  grass,  until  he  could  hear  his  heart 
beat  in  the  silence,  and  Solitude  laid  its  strangling 
grasp  upon  his  throat,  forcing  him  to  sing 
and  shout  to  get  breath. 


GENIUS  159 

One  evening,  after  many  hours'  vain  work,  he 
fell  asleep  in  the  grass  where  he  had  lain  down. 

The  sun  had  not  yet  set.  The  air  was  still  and 
heavy;  and  Hendrik  slept,  exhausted  with  his  un- 
successful fight,  until  a  new  day  pushed  its 
way  like  a  young  maiden  through  the  woods,  and 
lighted  the  unfathomable  colours. 

Hendrik  sat  up  and  rubbed  his  eyes. 

He  looked  dazedly  about  him  and  failed  to 
recognize  where  he  was,  until  his  glance  fell  on 
the  picture  which  still  hung  on  the  home-made 
easel. 

Then  he  remembered,  and  turned  away  with  a 
sigh. 

He  stretched  out  his  arms  towards  the  sun-rays 
which  all  the  while  dazzled  his  eyes;  then  went 
off  to  his  den  to  procure  some  breakfast. 

He  avoided  looking  towards  the  picture,  and 
felt  most  of  all  like  smashing  a  hole  through  the 
canvas  and  never  touching  a  brush  or  palette 
again;  but  as  he  passed  by,  he  could  not  resist 
throwing  it  a  glance  to  see  how  it  looked. 

"What  on  earth ?" 

Hendrik's  jaw  dropped,  and  his  eyes  almost 
started  from  their  sockets. 

That  picture  there — was  it  that  he  had  sworn 
and  cursed  about? 

He  wiped  the  perspiration  doubtfully  from 
his  brow  and  ran  his  fingers  through  his  bris- 
tling hair  before  approaching  nearer. 

He  bent  down  over  his  painting-case.     There 


160  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

lay  the  palette.  The  paints  he  had  put  up  the 
day  before  were  jumbled  all  together  in  the 
middle  in  one  indescribable  colour-mixture. 

Then  he  looked  again  at  the  canvas.  In  the 
foreground  there  still  stood  the  tall  grass  and 
a  part  of  the  palm-trunk.  But  in  the  middle  dis- 
tance palm  crown,  bushes,  leaves,  and  fruit 
merged  into  a  sky  of  the  same  indescribable  yellow 
which  shone  from  the  palette  and  the  still  wet 
brush. 

There  it  stood,  patch  upon  patch  of  vivid 
colour,  streaked  with  wonderful  shafts  of  light, 
the  green  palm-trunk  shining  palely  through  ;the 
faint  film  of  azure. 

Hendrik  scratched  his  head  and  rubbed  his 
brow.  He  screwed  up  his  eyes  and  divided  the 
picture  both  vertically  and  horizontally  with  his 
hand.  He  went  quite  close  and  examined  the 
brush  strokes,  then  drew  back  again  to  get  in 
focus,.  Abruptly  it  flashed  upon  him  what  had 
happened. 

The  riddle  was  solved. 

Sunrise  in  the  Jungle — that  was  what  he  had 
painted ! 

These  yellow  tones  there — these  glowing  az- 
ures— these  wonderful  brush  strokes,  annihilating 
all  form  to  reproduce  it  in  light 

It  was  not  painted — it  was  created,  breathed 
on — it  was  Nature  herself — naked,  trembling, 
divine  Nature. 

The  construction  was  haphazard — the  concep- 


GENIUS  161 

tion  inconceivable — the  composition  incompre- 
hensible— but  seen  without  glasses — peered  at 
from  behind  the  scenes — right  through  symbols 
and  technique  and  art  and  hocus-pocus  .  .  . 

Awake,  he  had  fought  like  a  madman;  and  then 
by  night,  whilst  his  body  slept,  his  soul  had  con- 
tinued the  struggle.  In  the  mists  of  daybreak 
genius  had  lifted  its  wings.  It  had  risen  in  its 
pristine  strength,  broken  the  bonds  of  ego,  flung 
convention  and  art  and  all  connected  with  hurry- 
scurry  aside,  grasped  the  brush,  made  Nature 
come  forth  before  his  dreaming  eye,  and  forced 
her  to  unveil  herself. 

"Hurrah!— Hurrah  .   .  . !" 

Long  live  the  great  Hendrik  Koort! 

Daniel ! — Jakob  ! — Pieter  ! — why  was  there  no 
one  to  see  it  with  him,  and  bow  down  in  worship 
before  the  masterpiece  that  had  sprung  into 
being? 

When  his  excitement  had  subsided  a  little, 
Hendrik  sat  down  cross-legged  on  the  ground, 
and  with  folded  hands  gazed  devoutly  at  the 
picture. 

How  perfect  it  was — how  utterly,  how  sub- 
limely perfect! 

Not  a  stroke  of  it  would  he  alter  now  that  he 
was  awake. 

Would  that  he  could  always  sleep  in  such  a 
manner ! 


XX  :    THE   POETIC 
CRYSTALS 

EACH  morning,  when  Daniel  awoke  in  his 
lofty  dwelling,  he  stood  before  his  stone 
castle    and,    facing   the    sun,    once   more 
took  possession  of  his  kingdom. 

But  he  had  a  feeling  that  something  was  miss- 
ing. 

There  were  plenty  of  proud  tree-tops  to  gaze 
out  over;  but  they  were  silent,  and  he  was  not  at 
all  certain  that  they  noticed  his  glance. 

There  was  no  one  to  fight  with,  no  one  to  hate, 
no  one  of  whom  to  make  cutting  remarks — in 
short,  he  missed  the  Great  Beast. 

What  should  he  shatter?  Whose  great  un- 
mutilated  ego  should  he  restore? 

There  were  big  spaces  enough,  but  no  one  to 
exalt  himself  over,  and  this  depressed  him. 

He  listened  to  the  language  of  the  animals, 
and  noticed  one  or  two  new  things;  but  the  ele- 
mental significant  sounds,  of  which  he  had  hoped 
so  much,  evaded  him.  As  soon  as  he  began  to 
ask,  they  became  silent;  he  failed  to  extract  a 
single  poetic  crystal  from  Solitude's  solemnity. 

Daniel  worried  and  suffered  because  he  could 
not  crush  the  island's  stubborn  opposition. 

One  morning,  awaking  full  of  fresh  energy 
after  a  deep  sleep,  he  said  to  himself: 

162 


THE  POETIC  CRYSTALS          163 

"You  must  get  closer  to  the  body  of  Nature  if 
you  would  learn  her  soul.  You  must  use  force. 
Nature  is  a  woman  with  a  deep  secret  behind  a 
shut  mouth." 

What  was  it  he,  so  Daniel-like,  had  written 
in  his  little  unfortunate  drama  which  the  Thieves' 
Kitchen  dishonoured — The  Bosom  of  Nature: 

"There  is  a  lock  to  the  bosom;  but  it  is  neither 
fire-  nor  sword-proof." 

He  must  begin  mankind's  Odyssey  all  over 
again  from  the  beginning,  play  the  whole  piece 
through,  so  to  speak  from  the  leaf, — the  fig-leaf. 

"From  the  fig-leaf  to  the  dinner-jacket — and 
back  again!" 

It  was  an  excellent  title.  With  a  sigh  he  aban- 
doned it;  for  he  now  no  longer  sat  piping  small, 
vicious  beggar's  songs  for  the  Great  Beast. 

Now  it  was  the  silver  trombone  that  should  re- 
sound with  his  poet's  frenzy. 

And  Daniel  followed  Robinson  Crusoe's  ex- 
ample. He  made  himself  bow  and  arrows,  not 
only  for  aesthetical  reasons,  but  also  because  of 
the  many  cheeky  little  fat  birds  which  the  fickle 
island  smiled  forth  over  his  head  and  which,  even 
in  the  midst  of  his  inspiration,  reminded  him  of 
food. 

The  day  on  which  he  succeeded  in  killing  a 
giddy  little  she-pigeon,  which  fell  as  a  victim  of 
its  curiosity,  was  one  of  the  most  festive  in  his 
new  existence. 

He  gazed  long  into  its  glazing  eyes,  stroked 


164  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

gently  its  soft  feathers  clotted  with  its  oozing 
blood,  cursed  in  a  rhymeless  poem,  "Little  Sister, 

thou ,"  the  fraternal  hand  which  had  so 

brutally  caused  her  life's  blood  to  flow,  and — 
devoured  it  with  satisfaction  in  a  delicious  soup 
of  peas,  yams,  and  unripe  bananas. 

The  same  afternoon  he  completed  another 
masterpiece, — a  coat,  woven  of  the  finest  grass 
he  could  find.  It  hung  like  a  cuirass  round  his 
ribs,  and  formed  a  first-class  substitute  for 
Hendrik  Koort's  woollen  jersey,  which  had  now 
to  be  washed  and  passed  on  according  to  agree- 
ment. 

That  evening  when  Daniel,  after  pulling  his 
draw-bridge  up  the  cliff  side  as  usual,  turned  and 
gazed  out  in  all  directions,  searching  for  signs 
of  the  savages  who  had  stolen  the  clothes,  he 
felt  more  like  the  Lord  of  the  Island  than  ever 
before. 

Now  inspiration  would  come,  he  thought.  He 
could  feel  the  poetic  crystals  welling  up  in  his 
brain,  and  resolved  to  make  a  start  on  his  great 
poem. 

"The  Voice  of  Solitude"  it  should  be  called. 

The  very  next  day,  whilst  his  Crusoe  hands 
plaited  a  rope  of  thin  liana  creepers,  the  shuttle 
of  poetry  shot  to  and  fro  through  the  warp ;  and 
before  the  evening  he  had  completed  the  first 
stanza. 

"The  Lord  of  the  Island"  was  its  title,  and  it 
extolled  Daniel  in  supernatural  size. 


THE  POETIC  CRYSTALS          165 

He  was  proud  and  happy  over  it.  In  his  first 
spasm  of  creative  joy  he  uttered  a  sigh  of  long- 
ing for  the  Great  Beast  at  home  in  Amsterdam; 
but  he  caught  himself  at  it,  heaped  ridicule  on 
his  weakness,  and  even  determined  not  to  court 
the  applause  of  his  fellow-islanders  on  the  follow- 
ing Sunday. 

Whilst  the  golden  sun  glided  into  the  bosom  of 
the  distant  palms,  and  all  living  things  stretched 
their  heads  to  catch  the  vanishing  rays;  whilst 
the  birds  sat  listening,  each  on  the  edge  of  its  bed, 
and  began  to  preen  their  plumage  for  the  night, 
Daniel  stood  before  his  castle,  his  head  lifted 
high,  his  glance  on  the  glowing  palm-tops,  and 
recited  his  lordship  poem  over  the  island. 

In  the  same  instant  as  the  last  stanza  passed 
his  lips,  it  sounded  as  if  some  one  laughed  among 
the  bushes. 

His  heart  stopped  beating.  He  was  seized 
with  panic — but  only  for  a  moment.  Then  he 
took  his  bow  and  arrow,  strode  over  the  open 
place,  and  for  fully  ten  minutes  stood  on  guard 
before  the  thicket,  every  sense  on  the  alert. 

Dearly  would  he  sell  his  life,  now  that  the 
poetic  crystals  had  begun  to  break  loose. 

Nothing  appeared.  Daniel  lay  down  to  rest 
like  a  hero,  convinced  that  it  was  Nature  itself, 
laughing  defiance  to  his  master  poem. 

It  was  the  voice  of  Solitude  answering  him, 
the  voice  his  poem  strove  to  capture. 

Now  he  longed  for  his  fellows  with  a  tenfold 


166  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

force,  yes,  even  if  it  were  only  Pieter  Goy.  Not 
from  fear  of  loneliness, — Daniel  was  never 
afraid, — but  only  to  report  to  them  the  great  and 
terrible  thing  that  Nature  had  condescended  to 
defy  him. 

Upon  waking  next  morning  after  a  restless, 
dream-disturbed  night,  he  examined  the  rope  lad- 
der carefully  to  see  whether  it  had  been  tampered 
with.  He  looked  round  cautiously  in  all  direc- 
tions before  venturing  out,  armed  himself  with 
bow  and  arrow,  and  went  forward  to  explore  the 
wood. 

Supposing  it  had  not  been  Nature,  but  the 
savages  instead,  who  had  mocked  him  yesterday; 
in  that  case  his  bow  was  but  a  feeble  weapon. 

The  instinct  to  rule  sank  slowly  through  him, 
from  his  heart  to  his  stomach,  down  to  his  knees, 
where  it  remained. 

Suddenly  a  distant  shot  reached  his  ears.  His 
knees  began  trembling.  Then  the  blood  rushed 
to  his  cheeks  in  relief. 

Of  course,  it  was  Pieter  Goy.  He  had  had 
the  gun  for  his  night-watch.  Daniel  now  remem- 
bered that  he  had  given  no  order  for  it  to  be 
replaced  in  the  depot. 

So  Pieter  had  been  swaggering  about  with  the 
gun  the  whole  week,  while  Daniel — the  island's 
ruler — had  but  a  miserable  home-made  bow  to 
play  with. 

Daniel  went  red  with  vexation,  and  determined 
to  call  him  to  account  at  once. 


THE  POETIC  CRYSTALS  167 

Not  because  he,  Daniel,  desired  human  com- 
panionship,— not  because  he  was  afraid,  he  who 
loved  Solitude  and  by  it  would  beget  the  great 
poem;  far  less  because  he  expected  that  Pieter 
had  shot  birds  or  other  delicious  game, — but 
merely  because  Daniel  was  offended  to  the  depths 
of  his  being  at  this  defiance  of  the  law,  and  be- 
cause it  was  his  duty  once  and  for  all  to  teach 
Pieter  Goy  who  was  real  master  of  the  island. 

Daniel  set  off  at  once.  When  by  way  of  the 
depot  he  at  last  reached  Pieter  Goy's  house,  the 
latter  was  preparing  his  midday  meal. 

Pieter  had  just  opened  the  last  of  the  tinned 
preserves  he  had  taken  from  the  stores;  suddenly 
he  heard  a  noise,  and  saw  Daniel  himself  peer- 
ing down  over  the  cliff. 

When  the  Lord  of  the  Island  at  length  stood 
before  him,  it  was  with  a  stern,  gloomy  face. 

Goy  hastened  to  show  him  all  that  he  owned — 
house  and  shed,  food-cupboard,  sun-sail,  and  fish- 
ing-net; but  it  did  not  mollify  his  visitor.  Quite 
the  reverse !  And  when  Daniel  at  last  caught 
sight  of  the  gun,  he  demanded  an  explanation 
both  regarding  that  and  the  tins,  of  which  he 
counted  five  in  all,  now  doing  duty  as  house  uten- 
sils,. 

Goy  turned  red  in  the  face,  and  said  in  excuse 
that  nothing  had  been  said  about  replacing  the 
gun.  He  hastened  to  offer  Daniel  a  home-made 
cigar,  and  invited  him  to  dinner.  But  when  all 
his  attempts  at  conciliation  failed  he  blew  out  his 


168  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

fat  cheeks,  struck  his  arms  akimbo,  and  said  that 
after  all  the  tins  belonged  just  as  much  to  him 
as  to  any  one  else.  Had  not  Daniel  himself  said 
that  property  rights  were  one  of  the  old  Society's 
worst  evils !  And  now  he  came  along  just  like  a 
policeman  at  home. 

Daniel  smiled  patronizingly. 

"You  are  quite  right,"  he  said,  "and  it  is  for 
that  very  reason  that  you  may  not  retain  the  gun." 

Pieter  rallied  his  thoughts.  Then  it  suddenly 
struck  him  that  Daniel  did  not  grudge  him  the 
gun.  He  had,  of  course,  heard  him  shoot,  and 
wanted  something  nice  to  eat  for  himself. 

"Quite  true,"  said  Pieter  meekly.  "I  had  not 
thought  of  that.  I  only  thought  it  was  a  pity 
for  the  gun  to  lie  there  and  rust.  But  if  any  one 
is  to  have  it,  then,  of  course,  it  must  be  you, 
Daniel,  who  are  the  rightful  master  of  the  island. 
Here  you  are !" 

He  held  out  the  gun  to  Daniel.  At  the  same 
moment  he  glanced  up  towards  the  bushes  at  the 
edge  of  the  cliff,  where  a  pair  of  love-sick  pigeons 
were  playing  tag. 

"Ssh!"  he  whispered.  "See  those  pigeons 
there  I  Quick,  shoot  them,  and  we'll  have  a  rare 
feed!" 

Daniel  looked  up.  He  had  never  in  his  life 
fired  off  a  gun;  but  he  could  not  dream  of  ac- 
knowledging the  fact,  and  therefore  raised  the 
gun  as  best  he  could  to  his  shoulder. 


THE  POETIC  CRYSTALS          169 

But  he  could  not  sight  it  properly,  neither  did 
he  feel  at  all  tiappy  at  the  thought  of  the  thing 
going  off  so  near  his  face;  it  kicked  like  a  horse, 
he  had  heard;  and  then,  supposing  he  fired  and 
missed,  the  birds  would  fly  away  and  a  good  din- 
ner vanish  before  his  eyes. 

"I  am  so  out  of  practice,"  he  whispered,  and 
handed  the  gun  to  Pieter;  "my  sight  is  not  very 
good  either.  You  had  better  shoot." 

Pieter  did  so,  and  brought  down  both  the  birds. 

Daniel  made  himself  comfortable;  and  while 
Pieter  prepared  the  game  for  the  pot, — talking 
volubly  the  whole  time  without  a  moment's  pause, 
— the  island  king's  heart  began  to  soften. 

As  he  thought  over  the  matter  and  remembered 
that  neither  Hendrik  nor  Jakob  was  any  more 
expert  with  the  gun  than  himself,  he  decided  it 
would  be  perfectly  justifiable  to  leave  it  with 
Pieter — to  whom,  after  all,  it  had  belonged  in  the 
old  Society — on  condition  that  Pieter  provided 
a  Sunday  dinner  of  game  for  all. 

Daniel  had  forgotten  for  the  moment  that 
animal  food  was  unlawful.  Goy  remembered 
well  that  it  should  be  used  only  in  necessity;  but 
he  did  not  like  to  remind  the  other  of  this — it 
would  look  as  if  he  were  setting  himself  up 
against  Daniel. 

On  the  contrary  he  hastened  to  clinch  the  agree- 
ment with  Daniel ;  and  when,  towards  evening,  he 
took  leave  of  his  visitor,  after  having  accom- 


170  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

panied  him  a  considerable  distance  on  his  journey, 
Daniel  was  more  subdued  and  mild  than  he  had 
ever  known  him  before. 

The  Lord  of  the  Island,  after  what  seemed 
an  endless  journey,  reached  his  rocky  fortress; 
he  was  terribly  tired  in  the  arms  through  carrying 
all  the  game  and  other  delicacies  presented  him 
by  Pieter  as  a  foretaste  of  his  Sunday  portion. 


XXI:   EVE  FROM   THE   SEA 

ONE  calm,  sweltering  afternoon  Pieter  Goy 
at  last  finished  his  fishing-trap,  and  carry- 
ing it  down  to  the  point  of  land  which 
formed  one  arm  of  the  lagoon,  prepared  to  put 
it  in  the  water. 

Just  as  he  had  found  a  place  for  the  poles,  and 
had  bound  the  trap  fast  between  them,  he  noticed 
a  sinister,  low-lying  cloud  out  beyond  the  foam 
belt  of  the  coral  reef. 

It  was  so  dark  and  compact  that  the  wings  of 
the  seagulls  shone  white  against  its  background. 

Pieter  scratched  his  head  doubtfully;  but  the 
sweat  ran  off  him  in  the  stifling  air,  and  he  was 
aching  with  fatigue  all  over  his  back. 

Supposing  there  did  come  a  violent  shower — 
what  then?  The  trap  would  not  come  to  any 
harm.  Besides,  he  had  heard  that  fish  were  more 
willing  to  enter  the  net  in  dull  weather.  In 
bright  weather  they  preferred  lying  about,  sun- 
bathing, near  the  surface. 

So  he  left  the  net  in  the  lap  of  the  gods  and 
sauntered  homewards.  But  before  he  had  pro- 
gressed farther  than  the  end  of  the  bay,  a  violent 
gust  of  wind  came  rushing  through  the  young 
tree-crowns  above  his  head. 

It  was  as  if  the  wood  had  emitted  a  long- 
171 


172  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

drawn-out  howl.     With  such  violence  did  it  come. 

Pieter  buttoned  Hendrik's  jersey  well  up  under 
his  chin  to  protect  him  from  the  sudden  cold. 
He  hesitated  for  a  while  and  then,  with  a  sigh, 
began  to  retrace  his  steps  to  take  in  the  net  again. 

But  he  had  scarcely  gone  three-score  paces  to- 
wards the  point  when  there  came  another  gust 
even  more  violent  than  the  first.  It  threw  itself 
from  the  tree-tops  and  swept  along  so  close  to  the 
ground  that  it  struck  him  on  the  head  and  then 
fled  whistling  out  over  the  lagoon,  which  was 
now  as  black  as  ink  and  looked  as  if  it  were  being 
flayed  alive  by  the  wind. 

Again  'came  a  blast,  this  time  almost  flinging 
him  to  the  ground.  He  gasped  for  breath. 
Simultaneously  the  rain  crackled  down  over 
leaves  and  stems,  whipping  the  shallow  water  of 
the  lagoon  so  that  the  spray  rose  in  the  air  like 
the  rays  of  a  fountain. 

Pieter,  abandoning  all  idea  of  reaching  his  net, 
fought  his  way  back,  step  by  step,  against  the 
storm;  but  long  before  he  reached  his  house  he 
was  as  wet  as  it  was  humanly  possible  to  be. 

He  had  only  his  old  shirt  into  which  to  change, 
except  for  a  mat  which  he  had  woven  for  his  bed- 
cover. 

These  he  put  on,  afterwards  wringing  the 
water  out  of  Hendrik's  woollen  jersey,  the  rain 
meanwhile  beating  incessantly  upon  his  plantain- 
leaf  roof. 

Pieter's   house   stood   in   the   lee   of   the   cliff. 


EVE  FROM  THE  SEA  173 

But  through  the  opening  over  the  door  he  could 
see  the  trees  beyond  the  courtyard  reeling  under 
the  whiplash  of  the  storm.  He  heard  them 
shrieking  and  groaning,  while  in  the  distance 
through  the  tree-stems  he  could  see  white  foam- 
topped  waves  in  the  previously  so  calm  la- 
goon. 

Pieter  rescued  his  awning  in  time.  But  before 
he  got  it  into  the  house  it  was  so  dark  he  could 
see  nothing  but  the  wall  of  rain,  which,  grey  and 
compact,  shut  out  the  last  light  of  day. 

Pieter  thought  no  longer  of  his  net.  Now  it 
was  the  music  overhead  which  made  him  hold 
his  breath  in  fear. 

It  came  from  the  old  trees  on  the  slope  above 
the  cliff.  Creaking  and  howling,  they  lifted 
their  voices,  stretching  out  their  arms  towards 
the  hut  in  despair,  as  if  beseeching  its  occupant 
for  help. 

He  dared  not  lie  down  to  rest.  Supposing  a 
tree  were  to  lose  its  hold  and  smash  through  his 
roof!  He  stood  before  the  door,  listening  iftto 
the  frightful  night. 

Minutes  passed  and  became  hours.  In  the 
distance  beyond  the  shriek  of  the  trees  and  the 
water's  eternal  streaming,  now  sounded  a  dull 
roar. 

It  was  the  sea,  he  thought.  Perhaps  it  was 
rising,  driven  by  the  storm.  Perhaps  it  would 
come  rushing  in  over  the  lagoon,  up  through  the 
bay,  trampling  all  things  under  foot,  until,  reach- 


174  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

ing  the  cliff,  it  would  lift  his  house  like  a  door 
from  its  hinges  and  tear  away  with  it  out  over 
the  reef. 

Rigid  with  horror  he  folded  his  hands  and  in 
the  same  moment  thought  of  Jakob  Beer,  the 
cripple,  with  his  wretched  plantain  hut.  If  only 
he  had  built  him  a  better  one ! 

Whilst  he  listened,  his  head  almost  bursting, 
he  raked  together  all  the  prayers  he  could  re- 
member. 

He  knew  not  whether  it  was  the  waterfall 
swollen  with  the  cloud-burst,  or  the  streams  of 
rain,  grown  to  a  flood,  that  seethed  and  bubbled 
through  treeroots  and  grass.  Or  whether  the 
ghastly  noise  really  was  the  sea,  stretching  its 
octopus  arms  over  the  island. 

The  night  was  as  black  as  a  bottomless  hole, 
but  every  cubic  inch  of  it  was  filled  with  incom- 
prehensible sounds,  amorphous  activity. 

Suddenly  something  that  sounded  like  a  human 
shriek  rose  from  the  sea.  Could  it  be  one  of  his 
comrades?  Or  was  it  the  savages  who  had 
plundered  the  clothes? 

At  last  the  wind  swung  round  to  the  west.  It 
released  its  hold  of  the  trees  on  the  slope.  They 
rose  up  sighing  in  their  rags  and  drew  breath 
again,  while  the  storm  now  flung  itself  upon  the 
bamboo  grove. 

His  house  was  no  longer  in  danger.  The  sin- 
ister bubbling  and  seething  had  ceased.  He 
threw  himself  down  on  the  bed,  intending  only  to 


EVE  FROM  THE  SEA  175 

rest  for  a  few  moments;  but  he  fell  almost  im- 
mediately into  a  sleep  of  utter  exhaustion. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  Pieter  awoke. 

The  light  poured  in  through  the  opening  over 
the  door  more  strongly  than  usual. 

With  a  start  he  leapt  to  his  feet  and  looked 
out.  It  was  the  storm  which  had  thinned  out 
the  trees  between  his  dwelling-place  and  the 
strand. 

There  they  were,  stretched  helter-skelter, 
naked  and  broken,  the  young,  slim  trees  in  the 
oozing  water.  The  ocean  had  been  right  up  to 
the  waterfall.  There  lay  horrid  sea-animals 
clinging  to  the  wet  limestone  which  shone 
smoothly  in  the  morning  sun. 

Another  yard,  and  Pieter  would  have  had  the 
sea  up  in  his  bed.  Now  it  had  retreated 
with  the  ebbing  tide,  its  track  clearly  marked 
through  the  reeds  and  grass. 

Pieter  shouldered  his  home-made  mattock  and 
ventured  out  towards  the  point  to  see  what  had 
become  of  his  priceless  fish-trap. 

As  he  walked  along  the  steeply-sloping  strand, 
slipping  on  the  wet  limestone  at  the  edge  of  the 
sea,  he  heard  a  rustling  on  the  slope  of  the  point 
as  of  a  large  animal.  He  grasped  his  mattock 
firmly  and  looked  round. 

Why  on  earth  had  he  left  the  gun  at  home? 
He  dared  not  proceed  before  he  was  sure  that  no 
danger  threatened.  For  it  was  necessary  to  se- 
cure his  line  of  retreat. 


176  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

He  turned  aside  towards  the  sound,  and 
walked  cautiously  upwards. 

Again  the  heavy  breathing  near  him  as  of  a 
wounded  animal. 

He  held  his  breath,  hesitated  for  a  moment 
with  beating  heart,  and  then  went  forward  again, 
at  the  same  time  pushing  aside  the  tall  reeds 
which  the  shelter  of  the  slope  had  saved  from 
destruction. 

A  shriek  rang  out  so  close  to  him  that  his  legs 
almost  collapsed. 

There — cowering  back  against  the  wet  side  of 
the  slope — sat  a  naked  brown  creature,  with  arms 
stretched  out  stiffly  in  deadly  terror.  The  pupils 
glittered  like  phosphorus  out  of  the  dazzling 
whites  of  the  eyes.  The  thick  lips  were  rigidly 
parted  over  the  chattering  teeth. 

It  was  a  woman. 

Round  her  hips  hung  the  tattered  remnants  of 
a  loin-cloth.  In  other  respects  she  was  fresh 
from  the  hands  of  the  Creator.  Her  breast  went 
in  and  out  convulsively,  and  from  under  the 
short,  curly  black  hair  the  sweat  of  fear  trickled 
down  over  her  smooth  forehead. 

When  Pieter  had  recovered  a  little  from  the 
shock,  he  looked  carefully  in  either  direction 
along  the  slope  to  see  if  there  were  more  of  the 
same  sort.  Then  he  moved  nearer  to  her. 

But  at  the  first  step  he  made,  she  flung  herself 
down  before  him,  with  palms  and  face  flat  on  the 
wet  earth. 


EVE  FROM  THE  SEA  177 

Pieter  gazed  down  in  astonishent  at  her  bare 
brown  back. 

"She  believes  I  am  an  evil  spirit,"  he  thought, 
and  began  to  speak  kindly  to  her. 

"I  shall  do  you  no  harm,"  said  he,  in  a  child- 
like voice,  at  the  same  time  touching  her  firm 
shoulder  to  comfort  her. 

She  bounded  to  her  feet,  and  would  have  fled; 
but  Pieter  seized  her  arm  and  held  fast. 

How  she  trembled ! 

He  felt  sorry  for  her,  and  began  patting  the 
slim,  cinnamon-brown  arm,  whi'ch  was  quite  warm 
to  his  touch. 

"She  is  only  about  eighteen  years  old,"  he 
thought,  running  his  glance  over  her  hips. 

Her  face  contracted.  She  stammered  a  whole 
volley  of  trembling  words,  pointing  at  the  same 
time  with  her  free  arm  in  a  certain  direction,  and 
thereupon  carrying  her  hand  to  her  mouth. 

Pieter  shook  his  head.  But  at  last  he  under- 
stood that  she  begged  him  urgently  to  follow  her. 

He  walked  behind,  without  releasing  his  hold 
on  her.  Several  hundred  steps  farther  on  he 
caught  sight  of  a  canoe,  lying  shattered  between 
the  rocks  on  the  strand.  When  they  approached 
quite  close  he  saw,  lying  behind  the  canoe,  the 
dead  body  of  a  naked  brown  man. 

Before  Pieter  had  time  to  recover  from  his 
surprise,  the  woman  threw  herself  upon  the 
corpse,  tears  streaming  from  her  eyes  and  sobs 
choking  her  throat. 


178  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Between  her  spasms  of  grief  she  kept  trying  to 
explain  something  to  him.  And  when  he  merely 
gaped  at  her  non-comprehendingly,  she  lifted  the 
dead  man's  arm,  while  her  tear-filled  eyes,  re- 
sembling dark,  ripe  grapes,  invited  him  to  do 
something  he  could  not  guess. 

She  raised  the  dead  man's  shoulder  on  to  her 
lap,  smoothed  it  with  both  hands,  looked  up  again 
at  Pieter,  and,  seeing  he  did  not  understand,  bent 
down  over  the  shoulder  and  made  as  if  to  set  her 
teeth  in  the  brown  skin. 

The  truth  suddenly  flashed  upon  Pieter  Goy. 

"She  is  afraid  I  shall  eat  her;  that's  why  she 
shrieked  when  I  touched  her  shoulder,"  he 
thought. 

"Now  she  beseeches  me,  while  she  weeps  over 
the  dead,  to  fix  my  teeth  in  the  fresh  corpse  in- 
stead of  in  her. 

"See,  he  is  much  fatter  and  tastier  than  I",  say 
her  anxious  eyes,  as  she  points  with  trembling 
hands  to  the  flesh  on  the  young  man's  shoulder." 

Pieter  could  not  refrain  from  laughing,  al- 
though her  suggestion  nauseated  him.  But  he 
stopped  immediately  with  a  feeling  of  shame, 
After  all,  it  was  a  dead  man. 

Then  he  thought  of  a  means  of  calming  her. 
He  took  a  dried  banana  out  of  his  food-bag,  sat 
down  on  the  canoe,  broke  the  banana  in  two, 
offered  her  one  piece,  and  began  to  eat  the  other 
himself. 

She  looked  at  him  with  open  mouth.     Then 


EVE  FROM  THE  SEA  179 

her  whole  face  cleared.  She  took  the  banana, 
let  the  fear  of  death  slip  from  her,  and,  sitting 
down  with  her  arms  crossed  on  her  lap,  began  to 
eat  ravenously. 

It  was  such  a  long  time  since  Pieter  Goy  had 
seen  a  woman.  He  sighed,  and  thought  of 
Marie  of  Groeningen,  she  who  had  jilted  him  for 
the  counter-jumper. 

His  brow  reddened,  as  he  fully  realized  the 
brown  woman's  nakedness,  and  he  turned  his  eyes 
aside  honourably,  but  nevertheless  threw  a  smile 
to  her  occasionally. 

She  sat  there  like  a  small,  obedient,  and  watch- 
ful dog,  now  that  she  was  reassured.  Every  ex- 
pression that  crossed  his  face  she  copied  to  the 
best  of  her  ability. 

He  gave  her  another  banana ;  then  made  a  sign 
for  her  to  help  him.  He  hacked  up  the  ground 
with  his  mattock.  She  dug  with  her  hands  in 
the  wet  places.  After  much  labour  they  suc- 
ceeded in  excavating  a  hole  large  enough  to  con- 
tain the  dead  man. 

As  Pieter  began  to  throw  the  earth  upon  him, 
the  girl  burst  into  tears. 

"She  is  used  to  cremation,  I  suppose,"  thought 
Pieter.  "But  we  won't  have  any  of  that  kind  of 
heathenism  here." 

He  made  a  large  cross  in  the  air,  and  said  the 
Lord's  Prayer  in  a  loud  voice  over  the  grave. 

Then  he  grasped  the  bow  of  the  canoe,  and 
made  a  sign  to  her  to  lift  the  other  end.  He 


i8o  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

wished  to  take   the  boat  home   and  repair   it. 

Not  until  he  began  to  drag  the  boat  along  by 
himself  did  she  understand. 

Without  a  word  she  wrenched  it  from  him, 
dragged  it  up  on  her  shoulders,  and  placed  her- 
self before  him,  like  a  beast  of  burden  waiting 
for  orders  from  its  master. 

Pieter  was  touched.  He  felt  ashamed  at  al- 
lowing a  woman  to  carry  for  them  both,  but  re- 
solved, nevertheless,  to  humour  her. 

He  walked  behind,  his  eyes  on  her  slim,  strong 
legs  as  she  rocked  herself  along  under  the  heavy 
burden.  The  sight  affected  him  strangely,  and 
he  decided  to  call  her  "Eve"  because  she  was  so 
naked. 

When  Eve  caught  sight  of  Pieter's  house  she 
dropped  the  canoe  in  amazement.  She  crouched 
down  on  her  haunches  before  the  door,  rubbing 
her  hands  to  and  fro  over  her  shins. 

While  Pieter  was  preparing  breakfast  she  fol- 
lowed his  movements  with  the  greatest  interest. 

Her  lips  moved  incessantly,  but  he  could  not 
hear  what  she  said. 

When  she  had  eaten  what  he  gave  her  of  his 
abundance,  she  expressed  her  gratitude  in  vari- 
ous natural  sounds,  and  when  they  had  finished, 
lay  down  at  his  feet,  her  black  grape-eyes, 
bursting  with  humility,  staring  straight  up  into 
his. 


EVE  FROM  THE  SEA  181 

Pieter  pondered  for  a  long  while  whether  he 
should  immediately  seek  out  his  comrades  to 
report  the  great  event  and  show  them  the  girl. 
Or  whether  he  should  wait  till  Sunday. 

While  thinking,  he  kept  stroking  her,  now  on 
the  back,  now  along  the  arms,  his  heart  becoming 
more  and  more  tender  with  each  movement  he 
made. 

When  he  endeavoured  to  open  a  conversation 
with  her,  she  showed  her  teeth  in  a  smile,  and  cop- 
ied all  the  movements  of  his  mouth. 

By  the  time  evening  came,  he  had  built  her  a 
hut  a  few  steps  distant  from  his  own.  He  had 
tied  Hendrik's  woolen  jersey  round  her  waist  so 
that  she  might  be  more  decently  clad. 

But  as  he  was  showing  her  to  bed  the  thought 
suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  she  might  run  away 
during  the  night. 

Perhaps  she  had  not  been  washed  up  at  all 
from  a  neighbouring  island,  as  he  had  at  once 
concluded.  Possibly  she  was  one  of  the  savages 
who  had  lain  in  ambush  on  him  and  his  comrades 
and  stolen  their  clothes.  Perhaps  she  had  come 
to  spy  on  them!  Now  that  the  night  had  come, 
perhaps  it  was  her  intention  to  sneak  back  to  her 
own  people  and  report  what  she  had  learnt. 

He  could  tie  her  to  the  hut.  But  what  was 
there  to  tie  her  with  which  she  or  others  could 
not  break? 

No! — there  was  nothing  else  to  do — he  must 


182  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

have  her  in  with  him  so  as  to  be  safe  against 
treachery. 

Pieter's  face  reddened  at  the  thought.  He 
was  an  honourable  soul,  and  had  never  quite  for- 
gotten Marie  from  Groeningen. 

And  once  more,  as  he  dragged  back  the  bed  he 
had  made  for  her  and  arranged  it  under  his  own 
roof — merely  to  be  safe  against  treachery — once 
more  his  thoughts  dwelt  on  his  life's  great  dis- 
appointment, until  his  heart  began  to  beat  more 
violently. 

But  when  he  saw  Eve's  white  teeth  shining  in 
the  evening  sun,  while  her  large  eyes  sought  to 
stare  every  wish  out  of  his  white  body;  when  he 
felt  her  warm  skin  against  his  hand,  as  she  pushed 
past  him  through  the  doorway  of  their  common 
sleeping-chamber, — then  he  once  for  all  bid 
defiance  to  his  past  and  to  Marie  of  Groenin- 
gen. 

"Probably  she  has  forgotten  all  about  me  and 
is  perfectly  happy,"  he  thought;  and  went  in  after 
Eve,  who  had  already  stretched  herself  at  full 
length  on  her  couch  and  lay  gazing  at  him  with 
her  large,  worshipping  eyes.  Her  gaze  sent  a 
curious  thrill  through  him. 

Pieter  slept  little  that  night — for  he  had  to  keep 
watch  on  his  charge.  And  when  Eve  began  to 
move  and  sigh,  he  talked  kindly  to  her,  telling  her 
she  must  not  be  afraid  and  believe  after  all  that 
he  was  an  evil  spirit  or  a  cannibal. 


EVE  FROM  THE  SEA  183 

Next  morning  Pieter  Goy  changed  his  mind. 

He  would  not  take  Eve  with  him  to  his  com- 
rades, neither  on  that  day  nor  on  the  Sunday 
following.  It  would  only  lead  to  misunderstand- 
ings, he  thought;  better  to  keep  her  hidden. 

As  he  sat  at  ease  in  the  sunshine  before  his 
door,  watching  Eve  bustling  round  after  twigs  for 
the  fire,  according  to  his  directions,  his  glance 
dwelt  delightedly  on  her  firm,  graceful  figure. 

He  laughed  softly  to  himself,  as  he  thought 
of  Daniel  and  Hendrik  and  Jakob — poor  brutes, 
wandering  about  chasing  their  poetry  and  their 
painting  and  their  music  1 

"Y.es — Pieter  Goy,  you  rogue  1"  he  thought — 
"I,  too,  have  found  an  object  in  life — but  it  is  one 
of  flesh  and  blood,  which  you  can  take  hold  of 
and  feel.  I,  too,  can  create  something,  and  it 
shall  be  to  make  this  pretty  brown  girl  into  a  real 
Eve  after  my  own  heart — one  who  will  stick  to  a 
man  through  thick  and  thin,  and  admire  and  be 
thankful  for  what  he  does  for  her.  One  who 
will  not  fly  to  the  arms  of  the  first-come-first- 
served  counter-jumper  that  happens  to  come 
along. 

"When  she  is  a  little  more  decently  dressed 
during  the  day" — he  added — "there  will  be  noth- 
ing she  need  be  ashamed  of. 

"So  much  for  that!" 


XXII  :    PETER   GOY'S 
STRENGTH   OF   MIND 

PIETER    looked   forward   to    a    care-free, 
happy  future. 
He  no  longer  needed  to  make  his  own  fire. 
He  had  a  woman  to  fetch  water  for  him,  to  clean 
up,  to  sit  at  home  and  look  after  the  hut  when  he 
went  out  shooting,  to  pluck  and  prepare  birds 
for  cooking. 

He  had  some  one  to  answer  his  every  nod,  to 
scratch  the  mosquito  bites  on  his  back,  to  fan  him 
when  he  found  it  too  warm — to  snarl  at  when  he 
had  slept  badly  and  was  sulky. 

She  could,  of  course,  wrinkle  her  black  brow 
in  anger  and  pout  her  thick  lips.  But  answer  him 
back  or  oppose  a  man's  will,  after  the  manner 
of  bad  women,  she  neither  wished  nor  dared. 

In  short,  she  served  him  faithfully  by  day  and 
by  night. 

Pieter  Goy  no  longer  missed  his  beloved 
Amsterdam.  It  is  true  he  would  have  liked  to 
keep  chickens  and  rabbits,  but  as  that  was  im- 
possible he  spent  more  and  more  of  his  time  in 
the  work  with  which  God  had  entrusted  him: 
to  educate  Eve  into  a  faithful  assistant  according 
to  the  good  old  Dutch  ideas  inherited  from  his 
forefathers. 

Naturally  he  found  it  annoying  that  there  was 
184 


STRENGTH  OF  MIND  185 

no  one  to  envy  him  his  good  fortune.  And,  when 
Sunday  came  round,  it  was  a  disappointment  that 
he  could  not  take  her  with  him  to  the  meeting- 
place. 

He  exhorted  her  by  word  and  sign  to  vigilance 
and  industry.  He  directed  her  to  finish  plaiting 
the  mat  which  he  had  on  hand,  in  order  that  sin- 
ful thoughts  should  not  take  possession  of  her 
and  cause  her  to  steal  things  which  Pieter  had 
hidden  in  what  he  called  his  safe.  He  sought  by 
means  of  signs  to  impress  upon  her  that  up  above 
an  Eye  is  always  watching;  but  she  misunderstood 
him,  and  fetched  the  sun-shade  which  he  had  made 
out  of  plantain  leaves. 

He  gave  it  up  and  started  off,  while  she  stood 
for  a  long  while  in  the  doorway  watching  him. 
Each  time  he  turned,  his  eyes  met  her  honest  face, 
her  obvious  depression  at  his  departure  filling 
him  with  elation. 

Pieter  had  spent  many  unhappy  Sundays  on  Sun 
Island,  but  this  one  seemed  to  him  the  most  un- 
satisfactory of  them  all. 

Perhaps  it  was  because  he  himself  felt  so  well 
and  happy  that  the  others  appeared  even  more 
sulky  and  bad-tempered  by  contrast. 

Jakob  Beer  was  so  hoarse  that  he  could  not 
speak.  The  terrible  cloud-burst  had  broken  the 
plantain  framework  of  his  house,  smashed  in  the 
roof,  and  put  him  and  his  bed  under  water.  The 
damage  was  now  repaired,  but  his  chill  remained. 
And  what  was  even  worse  for  the  cripple — his 


186  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

poor  violin  had  also  got  wet  and  was  as  hoarse 
as  himself. 

Hendrik  Koort  extolled  the  wonders  of  the 
island  with  a  wealth  of  sarcasm  that  made  Daniel 
alternately  flush  and  turn  pale.  Even  the  good- 
natured  Pieter  Goy  felt  indignant. 

Hendrik  had  been  forced  to  spend  the  night  of 
the  storm  up  in  his  old  nest,  the  water  having 
flooded  his  hollow  tree.  Not  only  had  he  been 
tortured  with  rheumatism  ever  since,  but  when, 
towards  dawn,  he  had  succeeded  in  wooing  slum- 
ber, he  had  been  awakened  by  a  branch,  broken 
off  by  the  storm,  falling  down  on  to  his  left  leg, 
making  it  green  and  yellow  right  up  to  the  knee. 

Daniel's  only  misfortune  lay  in  one  of  his  home- 
made garments  having  been  carried  away  by  the 
hurricane  over  the  tree-tops  somewhere  into  the 
lagoon  or  sea.  It  had  been  hanging  up  on  some 
branches,  and  Daniel  had  forgotten  to  take  it  in. 

Pieter  comforted  his  brethren  as  well  as  he 
could.  He  spoke  with  conviction  of  all  they  owed 
to  Sun  Island.  He  extolled  the  blessings  of 
Solitude  to  such  lengths  that  even  Daniel  lost 
patience  and  told  him  to  shut  up. 

Hendrik  glanced  irritably  at  him  and  said: 

"Perhaps  you  slept  through  it  all  since  you  are 
so  cheerful." 

They  closed  in  round  him  to  hear  how  he  had 
managed  to  weather  the  storm  so  well. 

Pieter,    with    a   beaming   face,    told   of    that 


STRENGTH  OF  MIND  187 

terrible  night  which  threatened  to  shatter  his 
house,  and  of  the  sea  which  had  climbed  to  within 
a  few  feet  of  his  court-yard. 

Finally,  he  mentioned  quite  casually  the  loss 
of  his  valuable  net  as  if  it  were  merely  a  cocoa-nut 
the  sea  had  stolen.  As  he  sat  there  with  legs 
crossed  comfortably  before  the  fire,  luxuriously 
puffing  his  home-made  tobacco,  the  dimples  twink- 
ling in  his  fat,  smiling  countenance  at  the  thought 
of  what  the  sea  had  given  him  instead  of  his  net, 
they  marvelled  at  the  development  of  their  erst- 
while waiter,  and  envied  his  strength  of  mind. 

Jakob  Beer  thought  of  the  cosy  house  with  its 
sun-sail  and  food-cupboard.  He  looked  down 
guiltily,  afraid  lest  the  others  should  read  in  his 
eyes  of  his  secret  excursion. 

"It's  only  because  Pieter  is  so  stupid,"  thought 
Hendrik;  but  nevertheless  promised  himself  to 
steal  a  visit  to  learn  his  system. 

Daniel  looked  Pieter  steadily  in  the  eyes  and 
thought  of  the  good  dinner  he  had  had  at  his 
house.  He  preferred  not  to  mention  his  visit,  al- 
though of  course  he  had  only  been  there  on  a  law- 
ful errand  in  his  capacity  as  Lord  of  the  Island. 

Pieter,  as  he  produced  his  Sunday  tribute,  also 
kept  silent  with  regard  to  the  visit  and  the  agree- 
ment. They  merely  appeared  to  be  gifts. 
There  were  two  fine  birds  to  each,  and  one  extra 
for  Daniel  on  account  of  his  delicate  digestion. 


i88  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Hendrik's  sulky  face  lit  up.  He  patted  Goy 
on  the  back,  and  for  the  first  time  in  many  days 
uttered  his  native  call. 

Jakob  Beer  stroked  the  birds'  plumage  with 
his  long,  thin  fingers,  speaking  touching  words 
on  mankind  as  Nature's  brutal  enemy.  Then 
fearing  to  offend  Pieter,  who  had  been  so  kind 
to  him,  he  said,  "It's  not  you  I  mean.  You 
understand  that,  don't  you,  Pieter?" 

Pieter  nodded  and  smiled.  He  had  not  been 
listening.  He  was  wondering  what  Eve  was  do- 
ing in  his  absence. 

If  the  others  only  knew 

Should  he  tell  them ? 

No,  thanks — he  was  not  quite  mad! 

Pieter,  however,  could  not  restrain  his  elation. 
It  must  have  an  outlet  somehow.  As  he  stood, 
keeping  an  eye  on  the  soup,  he  began  suddenly  to 
sing  with  reckless  gaiety: 

"Oh,  God  is  good!     He  gives  us, 
To  bless  our  life,  a  loving  wife." 

He  did  not  know  he  had  the  good  old  song  in  his 
head  until  the  words  burst  from  his  lips  of  their 
own  accord.  But  once  having  found  them,  he 
fairly  revelled  in  them,  singing  them  over  and 
over  again — the  same  two  lines;  that  was  all  he 
knew. 

Jakob  was  the  only  one  to  notice  that  Pieter 
sang  out  of  tune.  The  other  two  saw  only  that 


STRENGTH  OF  MIND  189 

their  steady,  sedate  old  ex-waiter  had  suddenly 
become  another  being. 

His  round  eyes  glowed  delightedly,  his  flat  feet 
tripped  in  waltz  time,  his  arms  swayed  in  the  air — 
just  as  at  home  at  Groeningen  he  had  danced  with 
Marie  at  the  gun-club  ball  before  the  counter- 
jumper  appeared  in  the  offing. 

None  of  them  had  seen  him  behave  in  such  a 
manner  before. 

Hendrik  was  nonplussed  for  a  moment.  Then, 
laughing  until  the  tears  trickled  down  in  his  red 
beard,  he  joined  in  the  dance,  and  slid  into 
Marie's  place  in  Pieter's  open  arms. 

Daniel  wondered  at  first  whether  it  was  possible 
that  Pieter  had  managed  to  smuggle  some  Dutch 
schnapps  with  him  to  the  island — or  whether  he 
had  perhaps  succeeded  in  distilling  some  home- 
made intoxicant  in  the  same  way  as  he  had  fab- 
ricated tobacco. 

But  finding  the  riddle  insoluble,  he  sat  with 
half-closed  eyes,  and  contented  himself  with  study- 
ing the  phenomenon. 


XXIII  :   A   GOOD   AND 
RIGHT-MINDED   WOMAN 

JAKOB  BEER  again  had  one  of  his  attacks. 
As  he  opened  his  eyes  to  the  world  after  an 
extra  long  spell  at  the  great  symphony,  his 
eyes  encountered  once  more  Solitude's  vacant, 
motionless  stare  from  the  trees. 

Shaking  with  terror  he  crept  into  his  hut,  hung 
the  leaves  over  the  opening,  and,  closing  his  eyes, 
endeavoured  to  sleep.  But  he  could  not.  He 
heard  all  Nature's  inexplicable  noises  surrounding 
him,  and  saw  daylight  creep  in  through  the  chinks 
in  the  foliage  before  at  last  he  managed  to  snatch 
a  couple  of  hours'  restless  slumber. 

He  awoke,  sprang  up,  slung  his  violin  on  his 
back,  swallowed  some  eggs  and  bananas,  and 
crept,  with  a  guilt-stricken  conscience,  along  the 
path  leading  to  Pieter  Goy's  house,  to  seek  from 
him  some  of  the  marvellous  spiritual  strength 
with  which  Pieter  had  astonished  them  all  on  the 
last  occasion  they  were  together.  Perhaps  also 
Pieter  had  something  good  to  eat  lying  about 
somewhere  or  other.  For  Jakob  was  famished 
after  his  long  day's  work,  his  spasm  of  terror, 
and  his  restless  night. 

On  the  occasion  of  his  last  visit  he  had  discov- 
ered a  short  cut  leading  directly  to  Pieter's  bam- 

190 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  191 

boo  grove,  so  that  he  no  longer  had  to  make  the 
long  detour  past  the  meeting-place. 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning,  with  the  songs  of 
birds  overhead  and  a  fresh  breeze  from  the  sea,  so 
that  Jakob  little  by  little  forgot  that  he  followed 
forbidden  paths.  He  hummed  the  piece  of  sym- 
phony he  had  struggled  with  the  day  before ;  and 
almost  before  he  was  aware  of  it,  Pieter's  bam- 
boo grove  lay  before  him,  shimmering  in  the  sun- 
light, there  just  on  the  other  side  of  the  clearing. 

Ten  minutes  later  he  stood  peering  down  over 
the  edge  of  the  cliff  behind  Pieter's  house. 

The  cooking-pot  hung  over  the  ashes  of  a  fire. 
The  sun-sail  was  erected.  Jakob  could  see  by  the 
shadow  that  the  door  of  the  hut  stood  ajar;  but 
not  a  sound  was  to  be  heard. 

Could  he  have  left  his  house  without  shutting 
it  up,  thought  Jakob,  and  called  out  in  a  cautious 
voice : 

"Pieter— Pieter  Goy!" 

Once.  Twice.  Then  the  shadow  of  the  door 
moved. 

Thank  goodness,  then,  he  was  at  home.  Jakob 
hesitated  no  longer.  He  hurried  on  until  he 
found  the  descending  place,  where  the  path  zig- 
zagged down  the  face  of  the  cliff. 

Reaching  the  bottom,  he  turned  towards  the 
house.  The  next  moment  he  stopped,  rigid  with 
amazement. 

There,  standing  before  the  doorway,  was  a 


192  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

brown  creature  with  Hendrik's  jersey  round  the 
loins  as  sole  garment. 

He  jumped  immediately  to  the  conclusion  that 
Pieter  had  been  attacked,  perhaps  killed,  by  the 
savages,  who  had  thereupon  taken  possession  of 
the  hut.  But  when  he  saw  that  it  was  a  female, 
who  stood  staring  at  him  just  as  terrified  as  him- 
self, he  thought  that  perhaps  Pieter  had  captured 
her  while  out  shooting. 

He  felt  rather  like  running  away,  but  curiosity 
drew  him  forward. 

He  approached  slowly  and  cautiously,  while  the 
woman  cowered  back  against  the  door  and  looked 
round  for  a  means  of  escape. 

When  he  had  reached  the  fire  and  cooking-pot, 
the  woman  made  a  sudden  decision.  Without  for 
a  moment  removing  her  shining  black  eyes  from 
his  face,  she  stooped  down,  drew  out  a  bundle  of 
peeled  bananas  from  behind  the  door,  and  held 
them  out  to  him,  at  the  same  time  showing  all  her 
white  teeth. 

Jakob  was  so  taken  by  surprise  at  her  sudden 
friendliness  that  he  almost  forgot  to  accept  the 
gift.  But,  understanding  that  it  was  a  sign  of 
friendship  and  hospitality,  he  hastened  forward 
and  took  them  in  his  hand. 

His  eyes  fell  upon  her  bare  breasts,  but  he  re- 
moved his  glance  immediately,  his  face  flushing 
deeply  as  he  ate  the  bananas  with  lowered  eyes. 

Eve  looked  him  over  from  head  to  foot.     He 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  193 

was  much  smaller  than  her  master,  besides  being 
crooked  and  thin.  The  only  thing  about  him 
that  still  caused  her  anxiety  was  that  curious 
weapon  on  his  back. 

Jakob,  as  if  reading  her  thoughts,  at  the  same 
moment  removed  the  violin  and  hung  it  over  the 
door. 

She  uttered  a  guttural  sound  of  joy,  retreated 
for  a  moment  behind  the  hut,  and  reappeared 
with  a  bowl  of  fresh  cocoa-nut  milk,  which  she 
held  out  towards  him  with  both  her  brown  hands 
again  exposing  her  teeth. 

She  was  so  friendly  that  Jakob  began  to  feel 
quite  bashful.  He  had  never  been  a  favourite 
with  ladies,  and  seldom  mixed  with  them  at  home. 
And  the  fact  that  his  hostess  now  stood  so  close 
to  him,  her  brown  breasts  exposed  in  the  glare  of 
the  sunlight,  caused  him  such  embarrassment — 
he  had  not  been  near  an  uncovered  female  bosom 
since  the  time  when,  nine  months'  old,  he  was 
weaned — that  he  grew  quite  confused,  and  felt 
it  somehow  to  be  impolite  to  stand  with  head 
covered  while  his  hostess  was  so  airily  clad. 

As  he  grasped  the  bowl  with  one  hand  he  took 
off  his  hat  with  the  other,  said,  "Thank  very 
much,"  and  made  a  clumsy  bow. 

He  drank  a  couple  of  mouthfuls,  mostly  out  of 
politeness,  and-  was  preparing  to  make  signs  to 
inquire  Pieter's  whereabouts,  when  something 
happened  which  filled  him  with  horror. 

When  Eve  fully  realized  that  he  came  in  peace 


194  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

— had  he  not  accepted  her  gift  of  bananas  and 
put  off  his  weapons? — she  soon  guessed  that  this 
white  man  must  be  a  friend  of  her  own  white 
master;  it  was  therefore  her  duty  as  a  good  and 
right-minded  woman  to  fulfil  in  her  lord's  absence 
the  visitor's  every  wish. 

She  had  offered  him  food  and  he  had  eaten. 
She  had  offered  him  drink  and  he  had  drunk. 
There  was  now  only  one  thing  remaining  which 
she,  being  a  woman,  could  give  her  master's  guest 
and  friend. 

The  fact  that  he  doffed  his  head-dress  indicated 
clearly  that  also  the  third  gift  would  be  acceptable 
to  him.  Because,  where  Eve  came  from,  for  a 
warrior  to  bare  his  head  before  a  woman  meant 
considerably  more  than  it  signifies  in  Europe. 

Eve,  being  an  honourable  brown  woman, 
thought  only  of  fulfilling  her  duties.  As,  in  addi- 
tion, the  weather  was  so  warm  and  she  had  seized 
the  opportunity  in  Pieter's  absence  to  have  a  good 
long  sleep  in  the  sun,  her  duty  in  this  case  seemed 
to  her  by  no  means  unpleasing. 

As  she  stood  there,  her  plump,  round  body 
curving  towards  him,  Jakob  saw  her  dark  eyes 
suddenly  change.  Their  expression  became  dull 
and  torpid  as  of  one  who  had  been  drinking. 
She  lowered  her  black,  be-curled  head  humbly  and 
with  a  fixed  smile,  began  slowly  to  loosen  the 
knot  behind  her  in  which  the  arms  of  Hendrik's 
jersey  were  tied  to  keep  the  garment  in  position 
round  her  hips,  let  it  slide  slowly  down  over  her 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  195 

shapely  cinnamon-brown  legs,  gracefully  lifted 
her  feet  out«of  it,  and  stood  facing  Jakob  as  the 
mother  of  her  race  stood  before  Adam,  before 
the  fig-leaf  made  its  appearance  into  the  world 
and  religious  history. 

Jakob  Beer  was  by  nature  neither  a  hero  nor  a 
warrior.  Life  had  not  taught  him  to  meet  the 
unexpected  with  a  smile.  He  was  chaste  and  in- 
experienced, and  although  it  is  true  he  had  looked 
forward  to  resting  awhile  naked  on  the  breast  of 
mother  earth  under  the  shadows  of  the  palms,  he 
had  not  imagined  for  a  moment  that  there  would 
be  ladies  present. 

His  eyes  had  scarcely  followed  the  jersey  on 
its  downward  course  over  the  slim  female  legs, 
when  he  started  blushing  to  the  roots  of  his  hair 
and  trembling  over  his  whole  body.  Eve,  as- 
suming from  his  hesitation  that  the  white  man, 
even  as  her  own  master,  was  too  great  a  chief  to 
help  himself  off  with  all  his  chest-  and  loin-cloths, 
dutiful  to  the  last,  stretched  out  her  arms  to  un- 
button his  shirt,  at  the  same  time  purring  like  a 
cat  stroked  the  wrong  way.  Her  touch  roused 
Jakob. 

Horror-struck  he  flung  down  the  cocoa-nut 
shell,  which  he  still  held  in  his  hands,  jammed  on 
his  hat,  seized  the  violin  from  the  door,  and  tore 
away  as  fast  as  his  heels  could  carry  him  towards 
the  path  up  the  cliff,  without  casting  a  single 
glance  behind. 

It  was  a  considerable  time  before  Jakob  suffi- 


196  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

ciently  recovered  his  presence  of  mind  to  think 
dispassionately  over  his  astounding  adventure. 

But  when  at  last  he  found  himself  lying  in  his 
lonely  retreat,  gazing,  with  his  hands  behind  his 
head,  up  at  the  ribs  of  his  leaf-roof,  he  saw  the 
brown  woman  so  distinctly  before  his  eyes,  smiling 
and  unashamed  as  from  the  hand  of  her  Maker, 
that  he  could  have  drawn  her  every  curve. 

He  went  hot  and  cold  alternately,  and  got  no 
peace  from  the  picture  before  he  had  seized  his 
violin  and  played  it  out  through  his  finger-tips. 

A  totally  new  theme,  quite  new  tones,  flooded 
forth.  They  so  amazed  and  intoxicated  him  that 
he  was  within  an  ace  of  regretting  that  he  had 
not  tarried  a  few  moments  longer  and  met  the 
naked  reality  courageously  like  a  man. 

Jakob  Beer  had  now  food  for  thought  with  a 
vengeance.  So  that  was  the  secret  of  Pieter 
Goy's  new-found  optimism!  He  knew  that  he 
ought  to  feel  scandalized,  yes,  angry,  with  him 
for  it;  but  he  could  not.  And  before  three  days 
had  passed  he  had  progressed  so  far  that  he  en- 
vied him  shamelessly  and  with  his  whole  heart. 

Then  he  found  comfort  in  the  thought  that  as 
there  was  one  woman  on  the  island  there  might 
also  be  others. 

He  began  to  play  the  most  bewitching  music 
he  knew;  perhaps  he  would  succeed  in  attracting 
one  of  the  island's  female  inhabitants.  He 
called  and  beguiled  on  the  strings;  and  when  this 
proved  unsuccessful,  he  dug  out  from  the  depths 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  197 

of  his  memory  all  the  worst  jingle-jangle  he  had 
ever  heard  in  street  or  eating-house.  Although 
the  sounds  tortured  him,  he  climbed  up  into  a 
bread-fruit  tree  and  played  them  as  loudly  as  he 
could  to  every  corner  of  the  island — until  sud- 
denly, with  a  thrill  of  horror,  he  lowered  his  bow. 

For  in  the  gathering  darkness  it  seemed  to  him 
that  he  saw  not  one  but  many  dusky  female  forms 
peering  in  amazement  at  him  from  between  the 
tree-trunks. 

They  were  small  and  short-legged,  black  rather 
than  brown.  Over  them  hung  nothing  of  the 
splendour  which  glowed  in  his  memory  of  the 
straight,  slim  legs  and  the  smooth,  sun-kissed, 
cinnamon-brown  breasts. 

He  stared  and  stared,  and  at  last  knew  not 
whether  they  were  realities  or  merely  creatures 
of  his  own  phantasy. 

Then  he  climbed  down  from  the  tree  and,  with 
a  long-drawn  sigh,  lay  down  to  rest. 


XXIV:    THE    BLESSINGS    OF 
SOLITUDE 

ONE  morning,  as  Hendrik  was  wandering 
about  under  the  trees  with  his  sketch- 
book, he  found  a  beaten  track  in  the 
grass. 

"Savages,"  he  thought,  and  considered  whether 
he  should  turn  back;  for  he  had  no  weapon.  But 
curiosity  was  too  strong  for  him;  he  followed  the 
path  with  long,  cautious  steps  and  wide,  vigilant 
eyes. 

He  passed  through  a  dense  thicket  and 
arrived  at  a  circular  clearing.  There,  on  the 
opposite  side,  crackled  a  grove  of  stiff  bamboo 
canes  as  close  to  one  another  as  streaks  of  water 
in  a  rain-storm. 

He  remarked  that  many  of  the  outer  canes  had 
been  cut  down  at  the  point  where  the  path  turned, 
hugging  the  outskirts  of  the  grove  until  again 
entering  the  thicket. 

He  crept  along  the  path  and  soon  reached  a 
sharp  ascent,  from  the  top  of  which  could  be  seen 
a  wood  of  half-grown  saplings,  with  the  waters 
of  the  lagoon  gleaming  through  the  stems. 

Hearing  the  splashing  of  a  waterfall,  he 
followed  the  direction  of  the  sound,  and  saw  the 
cool,  clear  waters  of  a  spring  toppling  down  over 
a  low  lime-stone  cliff. 

198 


THE  BLESSINGS  OF  SOLITUDE     199 

Hendrik  forgot  the  danger,  threw  off  his 
clothes,  and  took  a  bath.  Then  imagining  he 
heard  a  human  voice,  he  hurriedly  dressed  again, 
and  sneaked  along  the  foot  of  the  cliff  until  be- 
tween the  scattered  scaplings  he  saw  a  man-high, 
human  dwelling  with  bamboo  walls  and  plantain- 
leaf  roof,  with  courtyard  and  sun-sail  and  chopp- 
ing-block. 

There,  in  the  bright  sunshine,  squatted  a  brown 
woman  peeling  bananas. 

"Heavens,  it  is  the  village  of  the  savages!" 
he  thought,  and  glided  noiselessly  behind  a  bush. 

But  as  he  crouched  there  watching,  he  saw, 
suspended  from  a  forked  branch,  a  cooking-pot 
similar  to  his  own;  and  surely  that  was  Pieter's 
shirt  hanging  on  a  string  to  dry! 

His  first  conclusion  was  that  the  ex-waiter  had 
fallen  a  victim  to  the  savages,  who  had  thereupon 
taken  possession  of  his  hut. 

But  when  he  saw  that  there  were  no  more 
houses,  and  no  living  being  other  than  the  brown 
creature  before  the  door,  peace  and  comfort  pre- 
vailing everywhere,  the  explanation  suddenly 
flashed  upon  him;  and  he  realized  in  the  same 
moment  the  real  nature  of  the  remarkable  change 
in  Pieter  Goy. 

Hendrik  was  not  bashful.  He  stamped  for- 
ward on  his  thick  supports,  at  the  same  time  utter- 
ing his  native  call — so  that  Pieter  might  under- 
stand who  was  approaching  and  come  out  and 
receive  him. 


200  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

The  woman  dropped  the  banana,  and  looked 
up  in  the  air  after  the  extraordinary  bird. 

Then  she  heard  Hendrik' s  footsteps  and  leapt 
to  her  feet  with  a  shriek.  She  was  about  to  flee 
when  she  saw  that  it  was  another  white  man  like 
her  master,  and  dared  not  move.  Perhaps  it  was 
one  of  his  friends  coming  to  have  a  chat  or  strike 
a  bargain. 

When  Hendrik  reached  the  courtyard,  she 
shrank  back  in  the  doorway  trembling;  for  this 
white  man  was  big  and  strong  like  her  own  mas- 
ter, and  had  a  red  beard  and  strange  bumps  on 
his  forehead. 

"What  a  sweet  little  girl!"  said  Hendrik,  wink- 
ing from  force  of  former  habit. 

What  a  treat  to  see  a  woman  again,  even  if  she 
did  have  cinnamon-coloured  skin! 

He  looked  at  her  curly  hair,  her  black,  grape- 
like  eyes,  her  firm  round  bosom  agitatedly  rising 
and  falling;  he  looked  at  her  round,  protruding 
stomach,  and  when  he  had  got  thus  far  he 
recognized  his  own  old  woollen  Amsterdam 
jersey. 

When  Hendrik  had  finished  laughing,  he 
pinched  her  cheek  softly,  and  asked: 

"Where  the  devil  did  Pieter  Goy  get  hold  of 
you?" 

Eve  had  learnt  by  this  time  that  when  a  white 
man  touched  her  on  a  soft  place,  it  was  not — as 
she  had  at  first  believed — to  feel  whether  she  was 
fat  enough  and  suitable  for  food,  but  merely  a 


THE  BLESSINGS  OF  SOLITUDE    201 

ceremony  which  meant  nothing  ill;  quite  the  re- 
verse, in  fact. 

She  felt  reassured,  and  showed  her  white  teeth 
in  a  smile. 

Hendrik  examined  the  hut  and  yard  in  amaze- 
ment. Here  was  all  that  a  man  needed,  and 
something  besides. 

When  he  found  the  food-cupboard  he  helped 
himself  to  whatever  took  his  fancy, — he  was 
hungry  after  his  bath, — squatted  on  the  mat 
under  the  sun-sail  before  the  door,  and  motioned 
to  Eve  to  sit  down  also. 

While  he  ate,  his  blue  eyes  never  left  her.  She 
did  not  as  yet  feel  sure  of  him,  for  he  had  taken 
the  food  himself;  but  upon  his  giving  her  a  bone 
from  a  cold  pigeon  he  had  found  in  the  larder, 
she  regained  confidence,  and  shortly  afterwards 
got  up  to  fetch  him  something  to  drink. 

He  took  the  bowl  of  milk  with  both  hands, 
poured  the  entire  contents  into  himself,  then 
smacked  his  lips  and  wiped  his  mouth.  When 
he  had  finished  eating  and  drinking  he  put  aside 
his  straw  hat,  dried  the  sweat  from  his  forehead, 
and  sat  up  to  study  her  more  closely  while  waiting 
for  Pieter. 

Eve  remembered  how  badly  things  had  gone 
some  days  previously  with  the  other  white  man, 
who,  in  spite  of  having  bared  his  head,  had  run 
away  just  as  she  was  about  to  perform  her  su- 
preme duty. 

She  herself  did  not  know  what  mistake  she  had 


202  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

made,  but  had  nevertheless  not  dared  to  mention 
the  visit  to  her  master,  since  it  had  terminated  so 
unfortunately. 

Now  this  fat  chief  here  with  the  queer  bumps 
on  the  forehead  came  along  and  did  not  even 
give  her  time  to  offer  him  the  dish  of  welcome. 
And  now  when  he  removed  his  head-dress,  she 
really  did  not  know  what  he  meant  by  it  The 
food  he  had  taken  himself. 

As  far  as  she  was  concerned  she  preferred  the 
little  thin  chief,  who  had  smiled  so  amiably  at 
her.  This  one  was  rather  too  fat,  and  reminded 
her  too  much  of  her  own  master.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  kept  edging  nearer  and  nearer  to 
her,  and  looked  at  her  in  a  manner  she  recognized. 

If  she  were  only  certain  what  her  duty  was 
towards  him,  she  would,  as  a  good  and  right- 
minded  woman,  do  whatever  was  required  of  her, 
especially  as  it  was  so  warm  to-day  and  she  had 
had  a  good  sleep  since  her  lord  departed  shooting. 

It  was  best  to  feel  her  way  forward,  she  de- 
cided, and  began  to  stare  into  his  sky-blue  eyes 
with  her  dull,  torpid  look. 

"Oho !"  thought  Hendrik,  feeling  moved,  and 
shifting  so  close  to  her  that  there  was  no  longer 
any  space  between  them. 

"What  are  you  doing  with  my  jersey,  you  little 
brown  huzzy?"  he  whispered  playfully,  at  the 
same  time  fingering  the  knot  tied  by  the  sleeves, 
which  to-day  hung  in  front  of  her  body. 

Eve  purred  like  a  cat.     With  humbly  lowered 


THE  BLESSINGS  OF  SOLITUDE    203 

head  and  thick  lips  pressed  together  she  hastened 
to  anticipate  him,  so  that  the  guest  should  not 
be  placed  to  the  incovenience  of  helping  him- 
self, as  he  had  with  regard  to  the  food. 

Deftly  she  slipped  the  jersey  down  over  her 
slim  legs,  and  when  this  chief  made  not  the  slight- 
est sign  of  covering  his  head  and  bolting,  she  felt 
sure  of  herself,  and  in  a  very  short  space  of  time 
had  disencumbered  him  also  of  all  that  could 
hinder  his  natural  movements. 

Hendrik  Koort  decided,  upon  consideration, 
not  to  wait  any  longer  for  Pieter's  return. 

Delighted  and  grateful  for  her  hospitality, 
he  gazed  deep  into  the  brown  woman's  moist, 
trustful  eyes. 

He  sought  vainly  for  something  to  give  her  in 
reward;  and,  finding  nothing  else,  he  at  last  cut 
off  a  brace-button  from  his  trousers. 

She  stared  joyfully  at  the  shining  disc,  tried 
whether  it  would  stick  in  her  hair,  and  at  last  put 
it  into  her  mouth. 

Before  they  parted,  Hendrik  endeavoured  to 
explain  that  he  would  soon  come  again. 

She  understood  perfectly. 

But  when  he  thereupon  tried  to  make  it  clear 
that  there  was  no  necessity  for  her  to  report  his 
visit  to  her  master,  he  was  not  sure  whether  the  set 
look  in  her  black  grape-eyes  indicated  a  promise 
or  a  refusal.  But,  putting  his  trust  in  woman's 
natural  instinct,  he  departed  in  confidence. 


204  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

After  this  discovery,  Hendrik  frequently  took 
his  morning  walk  in  the  same  direction.  He  used 
to  lie  and  listen  on  the  top  of  the  cliff  until  he 
was  sure  that  the  coast  was  clear. 

Then  he  trilled  a  tiny  strophe  of  his  native  call. 

Eve  always  knew  it  at  once.  When  she  was 
alone,  she  sprang  out  of  the  hut  and  beckoned 
eagerly. 

They  did  not  talk  of  Pieter — they  found  such 
difficulty  in  talking  at  all — but  otherwise  they 
spent  their  time  well,  and  Hendrik  usually  had 
some  little  present  or  other  for  her  which  he  had 
found  on  the  way. 

There  was  a  little  hole  behind  a  loose  piece  of 
rock  in  the  wall  of  the  cliff.  Here  she  hoarded 
all  her  small  private  treasures.  It  was  this  hiding 
place  which  first  convinced  Hendrik  that  her  in- 
nate womanly  tact  would  teach  her  that  a  good 
and  right-minded  woman  should  not  make  mis- 
chief between  friends. 

In  this  way  Hendrik  also,  after  a  while,  ac- 
quired the  same  optimism,  the  same  strength  of 
mind  in  adversity  as  displayed  by  the  ex-waiter; 
and  he  and  Pieter  competed  at  the  Sunday  meet- 
ings in  singing  the  praises  of  Sun  Island  and  the 
blessings  of  Solitude. 

Hendrik  painted  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  and 
made  huge  progress,  inasmuch  as  he  came  in  much 
closer  contact  with  life. 

He  painted  beautiful  things  from  naked,  trem- 


THE  BLESSINGS  OF  SOLITUDE    205 

bling  Nature — seen  without  glasses  and  behind 
symbols. 

He  no  longer  painted  in  his  sleep.  For 
Hendrik  now  slumbered  soundly  without  anx- 
iety. 


XXV  :    THE   BONE   OF 
CONTENTION 

AT  last  Pieter  found  some  wood  suitable 
for  repairing  the  canoe.  He  cut  wooden 
pegs  with  his  pocket-knife,  bored  holes 
with  a  pointed  wedge  of  rock,  and  drove  them 
in  instead  of  nails. 

As  time  passed  affd  the  work  progressed,  he 
became  more  and  more  enthusiastic.  Having 
pegged  fast  the  covering,  he  plugged  it  with  lianas 
and  bast,  which  he  glued  tight  with  the  sticky  sap 
of  a  palm,  the  name  of  which  he  did  not  know. 

When  quite  sure  that  the  boat  was  watertight, 
he  felt  proud  and  happy,  and  thenceforth  spent 
every  moment  of  his  time  constructing  oars,  rud- 
der, mast,  and  sail. 

He  dreamt  of  it  by  night,  and  neglected  his 
shooting  by  day  to  sit  at  home  whistling  or  weav- 
ing. 

Hendrik,  coming  at  his  usual  time,  when  form- 
erly Pieter  used  to  be  out,  could  hear  him  from 
afar  whistling  or  singing  over  his  work. 

Early  one  morning,  however,  when  all  was  quite 
quiet,  Hendrik  ventured  to  the  cliff-edge  and  per- 
formed a  bar  of  his  native  call. 

Eve's  face,  convulsed  with  anxiety,  appeared 
suddenly  from  behind  the  open  door.  She  had 
scarce  time  to  wave  him  away  before  Pieter  thrust 

206 


THE  BONE  OF  CONTENTION     207 

his  bullet  head  out  of  the  hut, — he  was  in  deepest 
morning  neglige, — and  stared  in  the  direction  of 
the  sound,  which  seemed  somehow  familiar. 

Hendrik  ducked  down  just  in  time;  while  Eve 
looked  innocent,  and  helped  Pieter  to  stare  round 
after  the  strange  bird. 

Hendrik  Koort  cursed  his  evil  genius  and  aban- 
doned his  attempts. 

On  the  following  Sunday,  as  they  all  sat  gath- 
ered round  the  fire  moodily  drinking  coffee,  Pieter 
being  the  only  cheerful  member  of  the  company, 
the  painter,  remarking  Daniel's  sullen  silence  and 
Jakob's  hopeless  sighs,  seized  the  opportunity  to 
speak  his  mind. 

"Brethren,"  he  said,  "this  state  of  affairs  can't 
go  on  any  longer!" 

Daniel  and  Jakob  looked  up  quickly.  Hendrik 
read  from  the  gleam  in  their  eyes  that  he  had 
touched  an  internal  growth,  and  cut  daringly. 

"It  is  not  the  fault  of  Sun  Island,"  said  he, 
throwing  an  apologetic  glance  to  the  Lord  of  the 
Island.  "The  island  is  good  enough ;  but  we  have 
treated  it  wrongly.  That's  my  belief;  I  don't 
care  what  anyone  says." 

Hendrik  slapped  himself  on  the  thigh  to  em- 
phasize his  words,  and  looked  before  him  de- 
fiantly. 

Pieter  glanced  sideways  at  him,  and  said  sourly: 

"What  is  it  that  can't  go  on?  It  seems  to  ijje 
everything  is  going  splendidly." 


208  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

"There  you  are!  Pieter  considers  everything 
goes  splendidly;  while  others  are  almost  dying 
of  solitude  and  rheumatism  and  indigestion. 
Granted  that  Society  is  a  Great  Beast  and  an  evil 
thing  and  Heaven  knows  what  else,  it's  none  the 
less  a  fact,  that  man  is  not  constituted  to  live 
alone.  Either  he  degenerates  into  laziness  and 
melancholy,  or  he  goes  about  seeing  ghosts  in 
broad  daylight. 

"And  why  does  Pieter  think  it  goes  splendid- 
ly?" he  continued,  fixing  his  gaze  on  Goy's  round, 
shining  face,  with  the  flaxen  yellow  hair  that  had 
grown  so  long  and  curly. 

Pieter  dropped  his  eyes,  grew  red  on  the  fore- 
head, and  began  stirring  the  fire  with  a  stick. 

"Because  he  has  health  like  a  horse  and  is 
more  nimble  with  his  fingers  than  we  others,  who 
did  not  wash  bottles  in  our  cradles  and  pour 
out  beer  before  learning  to  walk.  It's  an  easy 
enough  matter  for  those  who  are  manual  workers 
to  make  a  good  solid  hut,  with  wood-shed  and 
food-cupboard  and  sun-sail  and  chopping-block ; 
but  for  us  who  work  with  our  brains " 

Daniel  picked  up  his  ears. 

"How  do  you  know,"  he  asked,  "what  Pieter's 
house  is  like?" 

Pieter  also  started  and  looked  up. 

"Yes,  what  do  you  know  about  it?" 

Jakob,  who  himself  had  so  much  to  conceal, 
hastened  to  join  in  to  avoid  being  suspected: 

'"Just  fancy  your  knowing  that,  Hendrik!" 


THE  BONE  OF  CONTENTION     209 

"I've  done  it  this  time,"  thought  the  painter 
regretfully.  "Better  make  a  clean  breast  of  it." 

"Obviously,  because  I  have  seen  it  with  my  own 
eyes,  one  day  when  I  was  out  with  my  sketch- 
book. Oh,  it's  ages  ago!"  he  added  hastily,  to 
conceal  his  acquaintance  with  Eve. 

He  immediately  began  to  talk  rapidly  of 
Pieter's  wonderful  home  in  order  to  distract 
Daniel's  and  Jakob's  thoughts. 

Beer  looked  guiltily  on  the  ground,  while 
Daniel  lay  back  and  watched  the  flight  of  the 
clouds. 

"Well — what  about  it?"  demanded  Pieter 
sulkily,  when  Hendrik's  eulogies  at  last  ran  dry. 

"What  about  it?  Naturally,  that  as  man  is 
not  constituted  for  living  alone,  we  must  therefore 
all  move  together.  And  as  Pieter  Goy  is  so  ex- 
pert at  building  and  carpentering  and  making  food 
and  such-like  there  is  no  sense  in  us  others  fool- 
ing about  here  making  a  muddle  of  what  we  know 
nothing  about.  Good  Lord,  no — for  we  have  so 
much  more  important  things  in  our  head  to  work 
at!  I  propose  therefore  that  we  all  shift  down 
to  the  neighbourhood  of  Goy's  hut.  I  don't  know 
whether  you  live  near  the  shore,  Daniel — you 
have  never  told  us  anything  about  that;  and  you, 
Jakob,  I  am  sure,  are  not  any  too  comfortable. 
But  down  where  Pieter  lives,  there  is  a  waterfall, 
and  a  cliff  to  give  shelter  from  the  wind,  and  a 
flat  beach  with  turtles,  and  a  view  out  over  the 
reef,  and  fishing.  Think  how  splendidly  we  could 


210  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

get  on  together  down  there !  I  don't  mean  we 
shall  all  live  side  by  side  like  rabbits.  There  can 
be  a  hundred  yards  or  so  between  each  of  us. 
Why,  after  all,  should  Pieter  hold  a  monopoly 
of  the  best  dwelling-place  on  the  island?" 

Pieter  went  as  red  as  a  lobster  with  emotion. 
Perspiration  started  to  his  forehead. 

"Do  you  hear  what  he  says,  Daniel?"  he  ex- 
claimed almost  tearfully,  stretching  out  his  arms 
beseechingly  to  the  Lord  of  the  Island,  who 
seemed  all  the  time  lost  in  thought.  "Do  you 
hear  what  he  says?  Wasn't  it  Solitude  we  came 
here  for?  Wasn't  it  Society  we  should  escape— 
with  mine  and  thine  and  shall  and  may — and  the 
primitive  people — and — and  fruits  an-d  palms — 
and  one  thing  with  another  ?  And  just  as  we  have 
all  got  it  working  nicely,  along  comes  Hendrik 
and  throws  cold  water  on  it.  I  myself  am  quite 
content  with  my  work  and — my  solitude.  How 
can  I  help  it  if  Hendrik  does  not  take  the  trouble 
to  build  a  proper  house  instead  of  loafing  or  drift- 
ing about  with  his  sketch-book!" 

"Pieter,"  said  Daniel,  looking  sternly  at  him, 
"you  talk  of  things  which  are  beyond  your  under- 
standing. You  are  so  clever  with  your  hands 
that  you  should  be  glad  of  the  opportunity  of 
following  your  vocation  and  working  for  us 
others,  now  that  you  have  long  ago  put  your  own 
house  in  order  and  have  nothing  more  to  do—- 
for you  have  no  serious  call  in  life  as  we  have." 

"What?"     Pieter  leapt  to  his  feet,  his  marvel- 


THE  BONE  OF  CONTENTION    211 

lous  equanimity  completely  gone.  "Nothing 
more  to  do?  Don't  I  shoot  birds  for  the  whole 
lot  of  us?  Haven't  I  caught  the  fish  we  have 
just  been  sitting  and  eating?  Nothing  more  to 
do  ?  Heaven  help  us !  We  have  our  hands  full 
the  whole  day  long,  both  of  us." 

"Both  of  us?"  Hendrik  butted  his  bulging 
forehead  towards  him.  "Who  are  both  of  us?" 

Damnation!  Pieter  turned  crimson  with  vexa- 
tion. .  .  .  He  was  caught  now  with  a  vengeance. 

"Has  Pieter  begun  to  think  double?"  asked 
Hendrik  teasingly. 

Jakob  dared  not  look  up.  He  was  weighed 
down  with  his  guilty  knowledge.  But  Daniel 
arose  in  his  full  majesty,  walked  right  up  to 
Pieter,  fixed  the  vacillating  eyes  with  his  eagle 
glance,  and  exclaimed  sternly: 

"Pieter  Goy!  As  you  hope  for  forgiveness, 
tell  the  truth!" 

Pieter  almost  wept  with  vexation  and  shame. 
He  repented  now  that  he  had  not  shown  them 
the  girl  at  once. 

When  he  had  told  them  what  had  happened, 
enlightened  Daniel  as  to  Eve's  age  and  appear- 
ance, vainly  sought  to  wriggle  away  from  his 
reasons  for  hiding  her  from  his  brethren, 
Hendrik,  with  deep  indignation  in  his  bass  voice, 
said: 

"For  shame,  Pieter,  that  you  could  do  such  a 
thing !  Here  we  have  freed  you  from  your  long 
slavery  in  the  Lions'  Den;  we  have  expended 


212  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

money  on  your  journey  and  equipment;  we  have 
accepted  and  treated  you  as  a  brother  in  order  to 
raise  you  to  our  level.  And  then  you  reward  us 
first  of  all  by  selfishly  taking  the  gun — " 

"None  of  you  knew  how  to  use  it!"  inter- 
rupted Pieter,  shamefaced,  his  breath  coming  in 
gasps. 

"And  then,  when  God  mercifully  washes  up  a 
young  brown  girl  on  the  island,  you  take  her  also 
and  keep  her  hidden  from  us  others." 

"Yes,  but " 

Pieter  was  about  to  interrupt  again,  but  Hen- 
drik  cut  him  short  sharply: 

"Perhaps  none  of  us  knew  how  to  use  her?" 

Jakob  lowered  his  eyes  and  blushingly  rubbed 
his  thin  hands  together. 

Pieter  tried  to  look  indignant;  but  before  he 
could  find  words,  Daniel,  whose  imagination  the 
extraordinary  occurrence  had  set  working,  said: 

"All  that  is  washed  up  on  the  shore  belongs 
to  the  Lord  of  the  Island.  You  ought  to  know 
quite  well,  Pieter,  that  the  girl  belongs  to  me!" 

There  was  a  general  uproar. 

Even  the  inoffensive  Jakob,  who  preserved  the 
memory  of  his  short  meeting  as  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  of  his  life,  jumped  up  and  protested. 

"You!"  shouted  Hendrik.  "Are  there  then 
such  things  as  property  rights  on  the  island? 
Have  we  escaped  from  Society  to  reconstruct  it 
here  with  its  mine  and  thine,  its  shall  and  may, 
and  its  Heaven  knows  what  else?  The  girl  be- 


THE  BONE  OF  CONTENTION     213 

longs  to  us  all! — and  I  don't  mind  telling  you  and 
Pieter  Goy  that  7  have  already  taken  my  share  I" 

Hendrik  clenched  his  fists  in  an  attitude  of 
defence.  Now  the  murder  was  out!  He  was 
ready  to  defend  his  standpoint  to  the  last  gasp. 

Pieter  failed  to  grasp  his  meaning  immediately. 
He  looked  him  up  and  down.  Then  he  recol- 
lected that  Hendrik  had  seen  his  hut,  that  it 
was  Hendrik  who  had  caught  him  in  saying  "we" ; 
he  thought  of  the  morning  when  he  had  heard 
the  strange  bird-cry  which  so  much  resembled 
the  painter's  native  call.  All  these  small  things 
shed  a  sudden  light  upon  certain  inexplicable 
changes  in  Eve's  marital  development  in  the  last 
months. 

The  full  shameful  comprehension  burst  sud- 
denly upon  him. 

"Then  you  also  have "  he  spluttered  furi- 
ously, shaking  his  clenched  fists  at  Hendrik's 
red  beard.  "What  a  beating  she  shall  have!" 

"Beating! — did  you  say  beating?  Will  you 
beat  a  woman  because  she  disposes  as  she  likes 
of  her  own  free  person?  Here,  we  are  not  in 
Amsterdam,  my  lad ! — we  are  free,  naked  people, 
we  are,  with  neither  priest  nor  mayor  nor  Society 
nor  police." 

"God  grant  we  were  at  home,"  whimpered 
Pieter.  "There  at  any  rate  is  law  and  justice 
for  each  and  every  one.  No  decent  Dutch  girl 
would  have  repaid  me  in  such  a  manner.  Here 
have  I  pulled  her  out  of  the  water,  clothed  her, 


214  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

slaved  for  her,  and  cherished  her  as  if  she  had 
been  as  good  as  the  other  one — and  then — and 
then " 

Pieter  broke  down.  Heaven  had  sent  him  a 
naked  brown  girl;  he  had  set  himself  the  task 
of  making  her  into  an  Eve  after  his  own  heart — 
one  who  would  serve  a  man  through  thick  and 
thin.  And  yet  nevertheless  things  went  just  as 
in  Groeningen,  that  the  first  counter-jumper- 

"But  suppposing,"  he  stammered,  in  a  state 
of  the  greatest  excitement,  "supposing  she  has 
a  child,  which  everything  gives  the  impression  she 
is  going  to  have — surely  the  child  will  be  mine ! 
Daniel,  hear  what  I  say!  Is  it  law  and  justice, 
too,  that  the  child  shall  belong  to  all  of  us  in 
common?" 

Daniel  had  not  thought  of  this.  The  child 
was  a  consequence  he  had  not  foreseen.  But  he 
now  weighed  the  whole  matter  in  his  mind  quickly. 
And  the  child  turned  the  scales. 

He  stepped  with  authority  between  Pieter  and 
Hendrik,  who  still  stood  in  threatening  attitudes. 
He  waited  till  every  one  had  cooled  down  a  little. 
Then  he  gathered  all  the  Sun  Brethren  round  him, 
and,  as  Lord  of  the  Island,  delivered  his  judg- 
ment. 

It  should  be  as  Hendrik  proposed.  They 
should  all  move  over  to  Pieter's  beach,  because  it 
had  proved  itself  to  be  the  most  advantageous 
position  on  the  island.  They  should  each  build  a 
house  there  after  the  style  of  Pieter  Goy's — at 


THE  BONE  OF  CONTENTION     215 

a  distance  of  two  hundred  paces  from  one  an- 
other, so  that  the  law  of  solitude  should  not  be 
broken.  Pieter  should,  as  hitherto,  retain  the 
gun  and  the  woman — the  latter,  however,  only  in 
so  far  as  she  chose,  of  her  own  inclination,  free 
from  ties  or  compulsion;  for  it  would  be  unworthy 
of  the  Sun  Brethren  to  violate  a  woman's  free 
personality,  even  if  she  were  brown  and  wild. 
But,  in  return,  Goy  and  his  woman  should  under- 
take the  household  duties  and  make  the  food, 
the  others  to  assist  in  the  collection  of  edible 
articles  according  to  their  several  abilities  and 
opportunities,  definite  rules  on  the  matter  to  be 
agreed  on  later. 

And  if  it  were  the  will  of  Fate  that  their  com- 
munity— ahem !  that  was  to  say,  their  numbers — 
were  to  be  augmented  by  a  child,  in  that  case  the 
child  should  be  Pieter  Goy's.  He  should  look 
after  it  like  a  father,  and  alone  bear  the  respon- 
sibility for  its  upkeep. 

"Even  if  it's  born  with  red  hair  and  a  bulging 
forehead?"  asked  Hendrik,  glancing  maliciously 
towards  Pieter,  as  he  stood  with  bowed  head  re- 
ceiving the  judgment. 

"Even  then!"  decided  Daniel,  and  did  not 
smile. 

When  evening  came,  all  the  Sun  Brethren,  at 
Daniel's  suggestion,  departed  to  Pieter  Goy's  hut 
to  make  the  acquaintance  of  his  woman, 
and,  following  a  night  spent  under  a  common 


2i6  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

roof,  choose  each  a  spot  for  his  new  dwelling. 

Pieter,  before  reaching  home,  had  resigned  him- 
self to  his  fate.  He  had  told  of  the  canoe  he  had 
completed,  and  by  the  time  the  Brethren,  having 
passed  the  bamboo  grove,  saw  the  slope  of  the 
cliff  before  them,  a  spirit  of  reconciliation,  fos- 
tered by  Jakob,  was  already  in  evidence  between 
him  and  Hendrik. 

In  the  semi-darkness  they  scrambled  down  the 
zigzag  path;  and  when  the  hut  appeared  in  view 
behind  the  trees  Pieter,  with  a  kind  of  fatherly 
pride,  raised  his  voice  and  called  out,  as  was  his 
custom  when  returning  from  his  shooting  excur- 
sions. 

But  Eve  did  not  appear. 

"She  is  such  a  one  for  sleeping!"  he  said  ex- 
cusingly,  running  towards  the  open  door. 

The  hut  was  empty.  The  bed  was  empty. 
When  he  went  out  into  the  courtyard  he  saw  that 
the  shed  was  empty  also.  The  cooking-pot  was 
not  hanging  in  its  place,  and  the  empty  food-tins 
containing  the  stores  had  vanished. 

A  frightful  thought  seized  him. 

Gun  in  hand  he  rushed  through  the  thicket  to 
the  strand,  where  he  had  finished  repairing  the 
canoe. 

That  also  had  vanished,  with  oars  and  rudder, 
sail  and  mast. 

"She  has  bolted  with  the  lot!"  he  shouted,  and 
fell  sobbing  in  Hendrik's  arms. 


XXVI:    HOME-SICKNESS 

THE  Sun  Brethren  moved  down  to  Pieter 
Goy's  strand;  but  Daniel  asserted  em- 
phatically that  it  was  not  a  community. 
.True,  the  work  was  shared  among  them ;  but  the 
rules  of  solitude  were  as  formerly  maintained  to 
the  utmost;  for  the  huts  stood  several  hundred 
steps  apart.     Dropping  in  for  a  chat  or  anything 
of  that  sort  was  strictly  forbidden,  visits  being 
permitted  only  when  absolutely  necessary. 

Daniel,  Hendrik,  and  Jakob  could  as  hitherto 
work  at  their  art  independently  of  one  another. 
They  met  only  at  the  common  meal  on  Sundays, 
and  every  day  at  noon,  when  each  one  fetched 
his  ration's  from  the  big  common  kitchen  by  Pieter 
Goy's  hut. 

Pieter  once  more  supplied  them  with  food  as 
in  Lions'  Den  days.  On  him  fell  the  duty  of 
shooting  the  necessary  amount  of  game,  supplying 
fuel,  and  preparing  the  food.  But  in  addition  he 
acted  as  builder,  carpenter,  smith,  mat-maker, 
doctor,  and  chemist. 

The  others  also  performed  a  share  in  the 
practical  work. 

Jakob  Beer  had  conquered  his  giddiness;  and 
as  he  was  so  slim  and  light,  the  duty  devolved  on 
him  of  securing  eggs  and  bananas. 

217 


218  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Hendrik  looked  after  the  cocoa-nut  supply. 
For  no  one  could  carry  as  well  as  he ;  and  the  nuts, 
which  had  to  be  plucked  some  distance  away,  were 
both  large  and  heavy.  He  also  had  to  open  them 
and  pour  out  the  milk. 

Daniel,  whose  house  lay  nearest  the  point, 
fished  with  Pieter's  net  and  his  own  hook  and  line. 
He  could  spend  half  the  day  waiting  for  a  bite, 
at  the  same  time  composing  poetry. 

When  the  catch  was  meagre,  Hendrik  always 
alleged  that  Daniel's  verse  frightened  the  fish 
away. 

Each  one  was  supposed  to  look  after  his  own 
supply  of  tobacco  and  salt.  But  as  Art  is  a  stern 
god  who  causes  his  votaries  to  be  slack  and 
neglectful  towards  earthly  things,  it  came  to  pass 
that  both  Hendrik  and  Jakob,  as  in  the  old  days 
in  the  Lions'  Den,  came  to  borrow  from  Pieter 
Goy,  enjoying  at  the  same  time  a  little  covert 
gossip. 

Daniel  looked  askance  at  all  that  transgressed 
the  island  laws-  He  was  on  the  whole  much 
stricter  now  than  in  the  first  period,  and  exercised 
such  stern  authority  as  Lord  of  the  Island  that 
the  others  put  their  heads  together  behind  his  back 
and  murmured  mutinously. 

Pieter  Goy  began  to  lose  his  optimism. 
It  was  not  so  much  that  he  missed  the  work 
with  which  Heaven  had  entrusted  him  in  respect 


HOME-SICKNESS  219 

to  Eve's  education.  Pieter  Goy  had  indeed  work 
enough  besides. 

But  the  truth  was,  that  he  was  home-sick. 
Pieter  Goy  was  home-sick — for  Holland — for 
his  native  town — for  the  canals — yes,  even  for 
the  dirty  walls  of  the  Lions'  Den. 

He  had  all  the  time  kept  close  count  of  the  days 
in  his  pocket-book.  When  he  now  began  to  write 
down  the  month  of  March  his  blood  tingled  with 
spring.  Here  on  the  island  Nature  did  not 
change, — it  was  the  same  everlasting  sunshine  as 
before, — but  none  the  less  he  felt  the  change  in 
himself. 

Now  the  snow  was  melting  in  Groeningen,  he 
thought.  The  grass  was  growing  green  and  the 
cattle  were  being  sent  to  pasture. 

Of  an  evening  as  he  sat  before  his  door,  blow- 
ing out  clouds  of  smoke  and  looking  through  the 
tree-stems  at  the  lagoon,  memory  and  longing 
moistened  his  eyes;  one  sigh  after  another  crept 
from  his  contracted  throat. 

The  big  hyacinths'  white,  blue,  and  light-red 
glory  spread  before  his  dreaming  gaze.  For  at 
this  time  of  the  year  he  was  wont  to  take  the  holi- 
day train  to  Haarlem  and  feast  his  eyes  on  the 
gorgeous  carpet  of  flowers. 

To  kill  thought  he  began  to  make  another 
canoe  of  the  same  design  as  the  one  Eve  had 
taken  away  with  her.  The  idea  of  the  others 
knowing  of  it  was  repugnant  to  him;  therefore 


220  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

he  set  up  a  bitts  behind  the  point,  on  the  shores  of 
the  large  bay.  Here  he  stood  hidden  by  the 
wooded  bank,  which  also  absorbed  the  noise, 
working  with  his  axe  and  pocket-knife  after  the 
day's  work  was  done. 

He  grew  so  absorbed  in  his  new  task — it  gave 
him  so  much  to  think  about  and  appeared  almost 
impossible  of  achievement — that  he  did  not 
remark  how  the  others  were  becoming  more 
and  more  depressed  with  each  day  that 
passed. 

When  Jakob  came  at  noon  to  bring  his  eggs  and 
fetch  his  soup  in  a  saucepan,  he  usually  sat  awhile 
on  the  chopping-block,  chatting  with  Goy  on 
things  in  general,  and  thinking  of  his  one  secret 
meeting  with  the  brown  girl. 

But  one  day  he  collapsed  as  he  sat  there.  Goy 
looked  up,  and  discovered  for  the  first  time  how 
terribly  thin  the  cripple  had  become. 

His  eyes  were  bigger  and  clearer,  the  nose  more 
pointed,  the  fixed  smile  rested  on  his  thin,  pale 
lips  like  a  withered  flower.  With  his  crooked 
shoulder  in  the  air  and  arms  crossed  on  his  lap  he 
stared  mournfully  before  him. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  asked  Pieter, 
seizing  him  by  the  arm. 

Jakob  pulled  himself  together,  looked  vacantly 
at  him,  and  smiled: 

"Nothing!"  he  said. 

On  the  following  day  Jakob  did  not  come. 
Daniel  and  Hendrik  had  long  since  fetched  their 


HOME-SICKNESS  221 

food,  and  Pieter  himself  had  eaten — but  Jakob 
did  not  come. 

"He  is  ill,  poor  chap,"  thought  the  tender- 
hearted Goy,  put  a  generous  helping  in  his  own 
pot,  and  approached  his  hut. 

Some*  steps  away  he  halted  and  listened. 
Jakob  was  playing  on  his  violin.  Old  Dutch 
melodies,  which  Goy  knew  so  well,  floated  out 
through  the  flimsy  walls.  He  sought  the  words 
in  vain,  although  he  knew  them;  but  there  was  no 
time  to  recall  them.  As  he  started  to  hum  the 
tune  of  one,  the  music  would  glide  over  to  an- 
other, which  he  knew  equally  well,  but  of  which 
also  he  could  not  recall  the  words. 

Goy  gave  up  the  attempt.  He  stood  with 
hands  folded  over  his  stomach  and  listened  to 
the  sounds  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

When  at  last  he  entered  the  hut,  he  saw  Jakob 
Beer  lying  crouched  on  his  bed  of  moss,  his  violin 
in  his  arms. 

His  thin  lips  moved  as  if  he  were  singing  an 
accompaniment;  but  no  sound  was  to  be  heard 
other  than  that  which  his  fingers,  now  so  thin  and 
bloodless,  drew  forth  from  the  strings. 

His  eyes  were  wide  open.  Great  transparent 
tears  overflowed  from  them  down  on  to  the  couch 
on  which  he  lay. 

"Jakob!"  called  Pieter  gently. 

Jakob  turned  his  head  slowly  towards  him  and 
looked  at  him,  but  did  not  cease  to  play. 

Pieter  Goy  relinquished  the  pot,  drew  out  the 


222  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

three-legged  chair,  and,  overwhelmed  by  all  the 
memories  of  his  dear  fatherland,  sat  down  and 
wept. 

He  knew  now  the  name  of  the  illness  from 
which  Jakob  was  suffering. 

Before  they  parted,  Jakob  told  him  that  he 
had  destroyed  his  great  symphony,  "Nature." 
He  would  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  it. 
It  hurt  him  so  much  when  he  played  it.  The 
act  had  upset  him  frightfully;  but  there  was 
nothing  else  to  do  if  he  were  to  obtain  peace  in 
his  soul. 

It  had  happened  yesterday  evening;  and  this 
morning,  to  deaden  his  remorse,  he  had  seized  the 
violin  and  played  everything  he  knew  of  home. 

It  sounded  like  worn-out  old  melodies.  Yet  it 
was,  nevertheless,  all  his  own  composition,  and 
now  he  was  happy;  in  this  moment  he  was  happy. 

Pieter  understood  it  very  well.  He  too  had 
thought  the  whole  time  that  what  Jakob  was  com- 
posing was  fearful  bosh — that  "Nature"  stuff. 
But  this — ah,  this  was  something  worth  listening 
to. 

"What  a  success  it  will  be  at  home !"  he  said,  as 
he  clapped  his  fat  hands  in  applause.  "People 
will  go  mad  over  it." 

"Do  you  really  think  so?"  said  Jakob,  looking 
up  eagerly.  But  he  suddenly  remembered  that 
they  would  never  be  able  to  hear  it  at  home;  he 
would  never  again  play  for  the  Great  Beast. 
Then  he  wept. 


HOME-SICKNESS  223 

One  afternoon,  when  Pieter  Goy  on  his  way 
home  passed  Hendrik's  hut,  he  saw  him  sitting 
before  his  door  painting. 

Goy  had  often  watched  him  from  a  distance. 
Hendrik  usually  stood  with  his  legs  straddled 
before  the  easel,  throwing  glances  forward  and 
backward  between  the  trees  and  the  canvas,  glar- 
ing like  a  madman. 

But  on  this  occasion  he  sat  with  lowered  head, 
and  worked  as  if  in  a  dream. 

Pieter  yielded  to  his  curiosity.  He  tiptoed 
cautiously  forward  so  that  Hendrik  should  not 
hear  him  and  chase  him  away;  for  the  artist  never 
liked  being  watched  while  he  was  painting. 

In  spite  of  his  caution  Hendrik  heard  him.  He 
turned  his  head  towards  the  sound;  but  he  said 
nothing,  nor  did  he  move  away. 

The  motive  he  was  working  at  depicted  Hol- 
land— his  home — in  spring-time.  In  the  level 
green  field  walked  a  cow,  treading  through  the 
tall  grass.  The  sunlight  lit  up  its  brown  side 
and  shoulder.  The  fresh  spring  air  flooded  in 
from  the  sea  under  the  lofty  blue  sky.  Sparrows 
twittered  and  starlings  whistled  so  that  it  was  a 
pleasure  to  listen.  And  there  on  the  right? — oh 
yes,  of  course — there  lay  before  the  little  red 
houses  one  large  field  of  hyacinths  after  the  other. 

Oh — how  beautiful  they  were  this  year! — and 
how  they  smelled! 

"Hendrik!"  said  Pieter  Goy,  resting  his  hand 
on  the  painter's  shoulder,  his  eyes  wet  with 


224  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

emotion.     "How  beautiful  it  is — how  beautiful  I 
What  is  it  called?" 

"The  Promised  Land!"  said  Hendrik,  without 
looking  up.  He  felt  ashamed  of  the  picture.  It 
was  only  sketched  from  memory. 

Jakob  Beer  became  ill. 

Goy  came  every  day  with  food  for  him.  On 
these  occasions  they  sat  chatting  surreptitiously 
of  the  canals,  of  the  wide,  wide  land,  of  the  hya- 
cinths and  tulips  and  the  green  lime-trees'  odorous 
blooms. 

A  plan  gradually  ripened  in  Pieter  Goy's  mind. 
He  did  not  tell  the  cripple  of  it,  for  he  shrank 
from  instilling  a  hope  which  he  was  not  yet  sure 
of  fulfilling. 

Pieter  was  nearing  the  end  of  the  ammunition. 
First  there  had  only  been  one  hundred  cartridges 
left.  Then  there  were  only  fifty.  But  when  the 
day  came  on  which  there  were  not  more  than 
twenty,  he  pulled  himself  together. 

Now  he  would  get  to  business. 

Pieter  Goy  began  to  grow  silent  and  reserved. 

The  depression  of  the  others  had  damped  his 
good  spirits  ever  since  they  had  moved  into  their 
new  quarters.  Finally,  despair  hung  like  a  heavy 
cloud  over  the  huts. 

It  had  always  been  a  tonic  for  Hendrik  to  stand 
wrangling  with  Pieter  on  something  or  other  or 
nothing.  It  was  a  relaxation  for  Daniel  to  have 


HOME-SICKNESS  225 

him  to  talk  down  to  and  taunt.  But  now  it  was 
all  over.  Pieter  performed  his  job  dutifully;  but 
there  was  no  fooling  with  him  any  more.  When 
they  spoke  to  him  he  answered  in  monosyllables. 
They  noticed  that  he  went  out  each  day  with 
his  gun.  He  was  always  away  a  long  while,  but 
they  never  heard  him  shoot;  and  they  had  never 
before  been  so  meagrely  supplied  with  game. 
And  yet  when  he  returned  home  he  was  always 
dead-tired,  and  dragged  his  legs  after  him. 


XXVII:    PIETER    GOY/S 
INHERITANCE 

SO  came  the  first  Sunday  when  Jakob  Beer 
again  appeared  at  the  weekly  meeting. 
He  was  by  no  means  fully  recovered,  and 
still  as  thin  as  a  skeleton;  but  he  himself  insisted 
that  he  was  quite  well  again. 

They  had  finished  eating,  and  sat  round  the  fire 
digesting. 

Then  Pieter  cleared  his  throat  several  times, 
until  all  heard  it  and  turned  their  silent,  gloomy 
faces  towards  him. 

Pieter  raised  his  voice  and  said: 

"Do  you  know  that  to-day  is  the  anniversary 
of  our  arrival  here  on  the  island?" 

"Yes,"  said  Daniel,  gazing  up  to  the  clouds; 
"it  is  a  year  to-day  since  we  took  possession  of 
Sun  Island." 

Pieter  Goy  hesitated  a  little.  His  breast 
worked  spasmodically.  They  all  saw  that  some- 
thing long  suppressed  was  about  to  break  its  way 
out. 

"What's  the  use  of  it  all?"  came  the  words 
with  a  rush. 

They  sat  up  straight;  but  no  one  spoke.  They 
waited,  for  they  saw  that  more,  much  more,  was 
to  come. 

"Is   any   single   one   of  us   transformed   into 

226 


PIETER  GOY'S  INHERITANCE    227 

another  person,  or  suchlike?  Perhaps  you  are, 
Daniel;  but  I  can't  see  it — or  you,  Hendrik? — 
for  certainly  Jakob  and  I  are  not." 

He  paused,  but  the  silence  remaining  unbroken, 
he  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  round  fore- 
head and  continued: 

"Is  it  possible  thus  to  change  from  what  you 
are  born,  just  by  running  away  from  everything? 
I  have  been  thinking  about  it  for  a  long  time — 
but  I  don't  believe1  it  is  possible!  For  you  drag 
the  same  old  self  round  the  whole  time,  even  if 
you  go  about  naked.  And  even  when  you  throw 
off  clothes  you  cannot  get  rid  of  what  you  are  born 
with.  And  all  this  with  Society  and  mine  and 
thine  and  police  and  property-rights  and  shall  and 
must — and  Heaven  knows  what  else,  which 
Daniel  says  is  evil, — and  I,  too,  believe  it  is, — 
is  nevertheless  something  which  has  surrounded 
you  and  grown  into  you  ever  since  early  child- 
hood. It  is  something  that  has  grown  so  fast 
that  it  is  impossible  to  sweat  it  out,  neither  in  one 
year  nor  in  two — be  it  never  so  much  a  Sun  Island 
with  no  beast  of  prey  and  no  serpents.  And  if 
you  were  to  succeed  in  sweating  it  out,  I  don't 
believe,  on  my  word,  that  you  would  be  able  to 
recognize  yourself — it  must  be  like  slipping  out 
of  your  skin,  with  the  result  that  you  only  run 
about  trying  to  put  it  on  again.  See,  I  can  recog- 
nize myself  again  quite  easily — there  are  no  pieces 
gone  from  me,  neither  in  one  way  nor  in  another. 
And  now  as  we  sit  here  together,  so  far  away  from 


228  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

all  the  old  life,  it  seems  to  me  we  have  merely 
got  the  old  life  here  again  in  a  different  manner 
— we  have  Society  as  well  as  law  and  right,  for 
you  are  the  island's  master,  Daniel,  and  one  of 
us  works  for  the  others  just  as  we  do  at  home — 
only  with  the  difference  that  no  money  changes 
hands.  Therefore  I  say  it  again,  and  ask: 
What's  the  use  of  it  all?" 

Pieter  Goy  gasped  with  exhaustion.  Never 
in  his  life  had  he  made  such  a  long  speech,  but 
now  at  last  he  had  got  it  off  his  mind,  thank  heav- 
ens! 

Daniel  sat  chewing  at  his  pipe.  Everybody 
looked  towards  him,  for  they  expected  to  see  him 
spring  up  like  a  jinn  from  a  bottle.  Daniel  was 
that  sort  of  fellow. 

But  nothing  of  the  sort  happened.  He  looked 
down  into  Pieter's  round  eyes,  and  said  gently: 

"That  is  a  matter  of  which  you  know  nothing, 
Pieter  Goy.  Look  about  you!  We  live  here 
under  simple,  natural  conditions,  in  solitude  and 
in  peace." 

Pieter  Goy  rolled  his  round  eyes  up  to  him  and 
said  innocently: 

"If  only  you  had  said  that  before!" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Yes — had  I  only  known  at  home  that  it  was 
simple,  natural  conditions  and  solitude  and  such- 
like things  you  wanted,  we  could  have  spared  our- 
selves the  trouble  of  journeying  so  far.  For  all 


PIETER  GOY'S  INHERITANCE    229 

these — we  have  them  in  Groeningen,  where  I  come 
from — and  we  have  always  had  them." 

Hendrik  burst  out  laughing.  He  smacked 
himself  on  his  thick  elephant  legs,  threw  back  his 
head  and  laughed  incessantly  and  immoderately. 
It  was  of  no  use  for  Daniel  to  frown  and  cough. 
For  now  Hendrik  would  laugh.  It  was  so  long 
since  he  had  had  a  real,  honest  laugh. 

Daniel  stood  up.  He  was  very  pale,  and  his 
eyes  gleamed. 

"What  do  you  mean,  Pieter  Goy,  by  coming 
here  and  putting  yourself  up  against  me?" 

Pieter  went  scarlet.  He  hesitated  a  little, 
dried  the  perspiration  off  his  forehead,  and  said 
quietly: 

"Daniel,  the  point  is  this,  that  we  have  now 
only  twenty  cartridges  left — after  that,  no  more 
meat." 

Hendrik  stopped  laughing  at  once.  Even 
Daniel  had  to  swallow  hurriedly  before  he  could 
answer : 

"Very  well,  we  will  manage  without." 

"And  then,"  continued  Pieter  in  the  same  gentle 
voice,  "then  there  is  also  this,  that  if  we  continue 
in  this  manner,  Jakob  Beer  will  die  before  our 
very  eyes. 

Jakob  looked  up  horrified.  He  tried  to  pro- 
test, but  lacked  the  strength.  For  of  late  he  had 
been  telling  himself  the  very  same  thing. 

"Just  look  at  him,  Daniel ! — and  you,  Hendrik ! 
There's  scarcely  meat  enough  on  him  to  nourish 


230  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

a  mosquito.  And  I  have  been  fattening  him  now 
for  the  last  three  weeks." 

Daniel  looked  closely  at  Jakob.  He  had  not 
had  time  before  to  observe  how  ill  he  was.  But 
now  he  saw  it  only  too  plainly,  and  looked  away 
again  at  once. 

Jakob  Beer  dropped  his  head  on  his  breast. 
He  wished  to  hide  the  fact  that  he  was  crying, 
but  he  could  not;  they  could  see  it  by  his  shoulders. 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Then  Daniel  lifted 
his  head  again. 

"Even  supposing  we  agree  to  give  it  all  up," 
he  said  in  a  subdued  voice,  as  they  had  never  heard 
him  speak  before,  "it  would  be  of  no  use;  we 
cannot  get  away!" 

Hendrik  lowered  his  bulging  forehead  between 
his  hands.  In  the  deep  silence  only  Jakob's 
laboured  breathing  could  be  heard;  he  sat 
bowed  over  his  lap  as  if  life  were  already  de- 
parting. 

Then  Pieter  arose  and  said: 

"Yes — but  that's  not  quite  certain.  For  I  have 
managed  to  make  a  boat;  and  even  if  not  a  first- 
class  one,  it  is  at  least  as  good  as  the  one  she  ran 
away  with — Eve,  I  mean.  I  did  not  like  to  say 
anything  about  it  before  it  was  finished.  There- 
fore I  built  it  over  there  behind  the  point  by  the 
big  bay." 

Jakob  began  to  tremble  with  excitement.  Hen- 
drik's  glance  shone  darkly;  even  in  Daniel's  eyes 
there  flared  a  sudden  light. 


PIETER  GOY'S  INHERITANCE    231 

"How  had  you  planned  to  go  to  work?"  he 
asked. 

"Well,  you  see — the  steamer  we  came  with — 
it  follows  a  regular  route.  Every  sixth  week — 
so  the  captain  said — it  comes  past  here  from 
Brisbane  to — some  other  place,  I  forget.  Now, 
according  to  my  calculations,  it  will  soon  be  due. 
And  in  my  opinion  we  should  make  up  our  minds 
to  risk  the  attempt  and  collect  food  for  a  couple 
of  weeks.  Then  we  can  set  off  in  our  boat  with 
our  food-chest  and  the  gun,  and  use  oars  and  sail 
alternately  according  to  the  direction  of  the  wind 
—until  we  reach  the  steamer's  track.  I  wrote 
down  in  my  diary  how  long  it  took  in  the  mo.tor- 
launch  from  the  ship,  so  that  we  can't  go  far 
wrong.  Once  out  there,  we  can  lie  to  and  wait; 
and  the  twenty  shots  we  can  keep  for  emergencies. 
Even  if  we  don't  strike  our  ship,  we  may  run 
across  another  one — and  if  there  comes  a  storm 
then  the  worst  that  can  happen  is  that  we  take 
refuge  on  one  of  the  many  small  islands  we  passed 
on  our  way  here — you  remember  them,  of  course  ! 
One  island  is,  after  all,  very  much  the  same  as 
another  to  live  on." 

Daniel  sat  for  a  long  time  in  deep  thought. 

"Well,  supposing  we  are  so  fortunate  as  to 
meet  some  ship  or  other,  we  shall  be  taken  to  the 
nearest  port  on  one  of  the  islands.  And  what 
then?" 

"Then  we  go  to  the  Dutch  Consul,"  said 
Hendrik. 


232  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

"And  you  expect  him  to  pay  our  passages  to 
Europe — just  for  love?" 

"He  will  telegraph." 

"To  whom — the  Queen  of  Holland?  For 
you  don't  believe  that  the  ship-owner,  who  paid 
to  get  rid  of  us,  will  now  pay  to  get  us  back 
again?  He  will  pay  for  me — perhaps.  But  for 
you  others ?" 

Hendrick  pondered  in  silence. 

"Damn  it!"  he  growled.  "Why  on  earth 
were  we  such  fools  as  to  chuck  away  our  last 
shillings  on  those  sailors?" 

Pieter  Goy  put  in  softly: 

"Yes,  why?     I,  too,  think  it  was  wrong." 

Daniel  lost  his  temper.  He  swung  round, 
flashing  with  his  eagle  glance. 

"Nobody  asks  you  what  you  think!" 

"Keep  calm!"  said  Hendrik,  butting  threat- 
eningly towards  him  with  his  forehead  bumps; 
"That  is  just  what  we  do  ask.  For  if  we  had 
not  had  Pieter  Goy,  then  God  have  mercy 
on  our  souls.  Put  that  in  your  pipe  and  smoke 
it!" 

Daniel  flushed  and  bit  his  lip;  but  he  kept  si- 
lent. 

Then   Pieter,   with   lowered   eyes,   continued: 

"Yes,  I  thought  that  at  the  time — and  there- 
fore I  was  not  honest  with  you,  Daniel.  When 
it  came  to  my  turn  to  give  everything  to  the 
sailors,  I  only  emptied  my  purse  of  small  change. 
But  I  had  some  gold  in  a  bag  around  my  neck.  It 


PIETER  GOY'S  INHERITANCE    233 

was  the  remainder  of  the  money  inherited  from  my 
mother,  and  what  I  raised  on  my  furniture." 

Pieter  unbuttoned  his  shirt,  and  pulled  a  dirty 
wash-leather  bag  from  his  hairy  bosom.  He 
shook  it  in  his  hands  so  that  they  heard  the  gold 
tinkle. 

"There's  enough  here  at  any  rate  to  take  us 
home  third-class." 

Hendrik  rushed  round  the  fire  and  folded 
Pieter  in  his  arms. 

Jakob  had  also  risen.  He  was  as  red  in  the 
cheeks  as  a  young,  love-sick  maiden.  His  eyes 
shone  with  light  as  he  took  Pieter's  hand  and 
held  it  between  both  his  own. 

Daniel  said  nothing,  for  he  knew  not  what  to 
say.  His  brain  formed  the  thought  that  that  is 
just  how  it  goes  in  life,  the  baser  natures  always 
conquer  the  finer;  but  he  did  not  express  it  in 
words,  for  he  could  not  feel  quite  sure  which  of 
them  was  the  baser  and  which  the  finer. 

At  last  he  won  a  victory  of  which  he  was  after- 
wards proud — the  victory  over  himself.  He 
stretched  out  his  hand  to  Pieter  across  the  dead 
fire,  and  said: 

"From  now  onwards  it  is  you  who  are  the 
leader,  not  I." 

Pieter's  face  turned  as  red  as  it  was  possible  to 
turn. 

"Daniel,  what  nonsense !  Nothing  of  the 
sort!  It  is  you  who  are  master  of  the  island; 
you  have  been  master  all  the  time." 


234  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

"Oh,  to  blazes  with  who  is  what!"  shouted 
Hendrik.  "We  are  all  as  good  as  one  another. 
The  only  thing  that  matters  is  to  get  away  from 
this  damned  island." 

Then,  having  joyfully  yelled  his  native  call  at 
the  very  top  of  his  voice,  he  flung  his  straw  hat  in 
the  air,  and  began  to  roar  the  national  anthem. 


XXVIII:    THE     MONKEYS 

A  MONTH  later  the  canoe  lay  equipped 
for  the  long  journey.     The  food-chest 
was  on  board,   and  all  the  clothes  and 
mats  they  possessed  for  shelter  against  the  rain 
and  night  cold;  but  otherwise  only  the  most  neces- 
sary articles.     For  room  was  very  limited,  and 
the  boat  might  not  be  too  low  in  the  water. 

Daniel  suggested  that  they  should  row  round 
the  point,  to  the  place  where  they  had  landed  a 
year  previously.  There  they  had  taken  pos- 
session of  the  island,  and  there  they  would  say 
farewell  to  it. 

It  was  the  same  coast  which  lay  before  their 
eyes,  fair  and  smiling.  The  same  palm  trees 
stretched  their  scaly  stems  up  towards  the  blue 
sky.  The  same  cliff,  under  which  the  sailors  had 
put  their  boxes  ashore.  Now,  as  then,  flickered 
variegated  bird-plumage  like  lightning  through 
the  air.  Perhaps,  even,  they  were  the  very  same 
parrots,  now  shrieking  at  them  from  the  border 
of  the  wood. 

And  yet  how  the  picture  had  changed  in  their 
eyes,  now  that  a  year  of  their  life — an  industrious 
and  extraordinary  year — lay  hidden  there  in  be- 
hind the  trees ! 

235 


236  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

They  sat  for  a  long  time  in  silence,  staring  the 
island  in  its  unfathomable  eyes. 

At  last  Daniel  rose  to  his  feet  in  the  bows  of  the 
boat.  He  took  off  his  hat  and  spoke: 

"Sun  Island,  you  did  not  fulfil  all  that  was 
expected  of  you,  it  is  true.  But  now,  as  we  re- 
linquish our  mastery  and  give  you  back  to  your- 
self, you  shall  know  that  you  hide  in  your  bosom 
a  portion  of  our  ego.  In  return  we  take  away 
something  that  is  yours.  Before  we  learnt  to 
know  you,  we  understood  not  the  meaning  of 
solitude.  Now  the  mystic  voice  of  your  solitude 
will  for  ever  sound  in  my  ears,  as  I  lie  awake  at 
night  in  the  old  country;  and  under  the  war  to  the 
knife  with  the  Great  Beast,  to  which  we  now  re- 
turn, the  memory  of  your  peace  will  for  ever 
struggle  like  a  sigh  of  longing  within  our  breasts. 
Farewell,  Sun  Island  I  Farewell,  dear  island! 
Farewell — farewell !" 

Daniel  waved  his  hat.  They  all  waved  their 
hats.  Hendrik  and  Pieter,  like  Daniel,  shouted, 
"Farewell — farewell!"  But  Jakob  could  not 
speak;  he  sat  gazing  yearningly  after  his  great 
symphony,  big  tears  trembling  in  his  eyes. 

Simultaneously  the  spaces  between  the  dark 
tree-stems  sprang  to  life.  An  uncanny  sound 
reached  their  ears  across  the  short  stretch  of 
water. 

"It  was  some  one  laughing!"  said  Hendrik, 
calling  to  mind  the  first  occasion  he  had  heard 


THE  MONKEYS  237 

the  weird  laughter  between  the  stems  as  they  were 
sitting  round  the  fire  before  their  boxes. 

Despite  Daniel's  superior  knowledge,  Hendrik 
had  never  given  up  his  monkeys.  Now,  for  the 
last  time  he  looked  towards  the  island,  while 
Pieter  with  powerful  strokes  of  the  oars  drove 
the  boat  over  the  lagoon's  calm,  shining  surface. 

And  lo !  both  he  and  the  others  saw  the  bushes 
at  the  edge  of  the  slope  begin  to  move.  They 
saw — as  Hendrik  had  seen  the  very  first  day — 
dark  forms  swarming  down  the  slim  bodies  of  the 
palms.  There  was  one,  there  were  two,  there 
were  many. 

The  strange  creatures  ran  out  of  the  shadow 
of  the  slope  down  towards  the  white,  sun-baked 
strand. 

And  look! — as  they  reached  the  light  they 
resolved  themselves  into  small,  short-legged,  long- 
armed  human  beings.  They  were  clad  only  in 
coat  and  waistcoat;  but  one  of  them  had  a  striped 
jersey  twisted  round  his  black  head. 

Pieter  dropped  the  oars  in  amazement.  But 
before  any  of  them  could  speak,  they  saw  the 
creatures  raise  their  arms  towards  them;  the  one 
with  the  jersey  round  his  head  pulled  it  off  and 
waved  it,  in  the  same  manner  as  Daniel  had  waved 
his  hat. 

At  the  same  time  uncouth  laughter  jangled 
across  the  water. 

The  Sun  Brethren  recognized  their  own  pre- 


238  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

cious  clothes.  They  gaped  at  each  other;  now 
they  knew  who  had  plundered  their  chest. 

Hendrik  was  the  first  to  recover  his  self-pos- 
session. 

"We  came  to  the  island" — he  said  shame- 
facedly— "intending  to  go  naked  like  the  first 
human  beings.  But  the  monkeys  were  more 
sensible.  Whilst  we  got  rheumatism,  colds,  and 
bad  stomachs,  they  swaggered  about  in  our  good, 
despised  clothes.  Can  you  hear  how  they  are 
laughing  at  us?" 

Jakob  sat  staring  big-eyed  at  a  little  crooked 
fellow  who  wore  his  own  good  coat  and  stood 
grinning  with  all  his  white  teeth.  He  seemed 
somehow  to  have  seen  him  before.  He  had  it  I 
It  was  the  spectre  which  had  chased  him,  terror- 
stricken,  from  his  sleeping-place.  Were  they 
then  she-monkeys  he  had  enticed  to  him  with  his 
jingle-jangle  music,  when  he  was  longing  for  Eve? 

Hendrik  said  not  another  word.  He  sat  think- 
ing over  things.  So  much  of  the  island's  mys- 
terious soul  was  now  clear  to  him. 

He  thought  of  the  wonderful  "sunrise."  Was 
it  really  Koort  the  genius  who  had  painted  it 
whilst  his  body  slept?  Or ? 

He  looked  again,  to  see  whether  the  insolent 
creature  with  the  nasty  lumps  on  its  back  was  also 
sitting  on  its  tail  on  the  shore,  grinning  at  them 
with  its  glassy  eyes.  But  he  could  not  find  it. 

Daniel  thought  of  the  voice  of  Solitude,  which 
had  mocked  him  when  he  had  declaimed  his  first 


THE  MONKEYS  239 

poetic  crystals  over  the  island.  But  he  said 
nothing  to  the  others  about  it,  and  drove  it 
quickly  from  his  mind. 

"So  there  were  monkeys  on  the  island !"  said 
Pieter  Goy,  resting  a  moment  on  his  oars. 

When  they  reached  the  reef  and  Pieter,  with 
careful  strokes,  guided  the  boat  past  the  line  of 
breakers  to  the  place  of  exit,  he  remarked  some 
woodwork  lying  gripped  by  two  coral  sticks  in  the 
reef.  The  water  washed  and  foamed  over  it, 
forwards  and  backwards. 

Pieter  rowed  as  near  as  he  dared,  in  order  to 
look  more  closely. 

It  looked  like  the  lid  of  a  large  case.  Iron 
bands  crossed  its  surface.  The  coral  sticks  had 
pushed  themselves  under  the  bands  and  held  on 
so  firmly  that  the  sea  had  not  been  able  to  take 
it. 

Near  the  lid  the  side  of  a  box  stuck  up  on  edge 
from  the  coral.  Some  letters  were  burnt  into 
the  wood. 

Pieter  could  not  distinguish  them;  but  Daniel 
read,  "Hamburg."  Then  it  struck  him  that  it 
was  the  remains  of  a  cage  they  had  found. 

He  was  right,  then,  after  all.  The  monkeys 
were  not  natives  of  Sun  Island.  They  had  emi- 
grated there  just  like  himself  and  his  friends. 
The  ship  which  was  to  have  carried  them  to  a 
European  zoological  garden  had  been  wrecked, 
and  their  cage  smashed  to  pieces  on  the  reef;  but 
the  monkeys  had  escaped  to  land. 


XXIX  :    HOME   AGAIN 

OF  Daniel  and  his  friends  there  is  still  to  be 
related  that,  thanks  to  Pieter's  inheri- 
tance, they  came  at  last,  as  deck  passen- 
gers on  board  a  Bremen  steamer,  to  Antwerp, 
whence  they  crossed  safely  to  Amsterdam. 

Daniel  called  on  his  uncle,  and  related  to  him 
the  extraordinary  adventures  which  had  befallen 
them.  When  he  took  his  leave,  he  accidentally 
left  behind  a  collection  of  poems,  which  he  had 
written  during  the  long,  sad  days  on  the  island 
when  autumn  began  to  approach  and  their  courage 
to  desert  them. 

He  had  said  nothing  of  them  to  any  of  his 
comrades;  for  he  was  a  little  ashamed  of  them. 

They  were  called  "Home,"  and  dealt  with 
hyacinths  and  tulips,  with  Amsterdam  canals  and 
the  scent  of  the  lime-trees. 

When  the  ship-owner  read  them  through,  his 
eyes  filled  with  tears.  He  had  aged  during  the 
last  year,  had  often  thought  of  death;  and  Daniel, 
after  all,  was  his  sole  male  relative  to  carry  on  the 
family  name. 

He  once  more  received  Daniel  into  favour,  and 
paid  the  expenses  of  publishing  his  poems  on  best 
Dutch  parchment,  with  vignettes  by  the  artist 

Hendrik  Koort. 

240 


HOME  AGAIN  241 

And  as  the  ship-owner  took  good  care  that  the 
intimate  history  of  the  poems  became  known  in 
the  right  circles,  they  had  such  a  success  that 
Daniel  sprang  into  fame  at  a  bound. 

Hendrik  Koort  courted  the  Great  Beast  with 
his  "Promised  Land,"  painted  in  his  days  of 
home-sickness — the  picture  in  which  the  starlings 
whistled  amid  the  sweet  scent  of  hyacinths.  It 
was  exhibited  at  an  art-dealer's  in  Kalverstraat. 
Even  stock-brokers  and  coffee-testers  felt  patriotic 
at  the  sight  and  the  smell  of  it.  And  Hendrik 
received  many  commissions. 

Rut  Jakob  Beer,  who  could  never  forget  his 
lost  symphony,  had  the  most  wonderful  fortune  of 
them  all. 

Upon  his  applying  again  for  his  old  post  at  the 
Church  for  the  Blind,  he  was  graciously  rein- 
stated. 

One  day  as  he  sat  playing  on  the  organ,  his 
fingers  ran  of  their  own  accord  into  the  hymn  to 
the  fatherland  which  Pieter  had  heard  him  play 
during  his  illness  in  his  hut. 

Now  the  Dowager  Queen,  who  was  the  church's 
patron,  that  day  paid  an  unexpected  visit  to  view 
the  new  altar-panel  presented  by  herself,  and 
which  had  just  been  placed  in  position. 

She  listened  delightedly  to  the  wonderful  mel- 
ody, and  ascertained  from  the  priest  the  name  of 
the  organist.  The  day  following,  Jakob  was 
"commanded"  to  play  for  Her  Majesty  at  the 
royal  castle.  He  hired  a  dress-suit  in  Koorte 


242  THE  PROMISED  ISLE 

Nieuwendijk,  drove  there  in  a  cab  with  his  violin 
and  played  so  beautifully  that  both  the  Queen 
and  the  ladies  of  the  Court  were  constrained  to 
blow  their  noses. 

From  that  day  onwards  he  enjoyed  the  royal 
favour,  and  a  small  yearly  stipendium  with  which 
to  educate  himself.  But  what  was  more,  all  the 
ladies  of  the  Court  took  him  maternally  under 
their  wings,  and  recommended  him  to  the  Great 
Beast.  He  soon  became  the  vogue,  and  secured 
so  many  pupils  that  he  had  not  time  to  attend  to 
them  all.  And — almost  the  greatest  honour  that 
can  befall  a  composer  in  Holland — the  hymn  was 
played  at  Her  Majesty's  table  whenever  a  foreign 
prince  came  on  a  visit. 

Neither  Daniel  nor  his  friends  forgot  their  old 
friend  in  need. 

The  poet  introduced  Goy  to  the  ship-owner, 
and  related  the  story  of  his  inheritance.  The  old 
man  paid  him  back  with  interest,  and  invested  the 
money  in  a  small  cafe  which  Pieter  desired  to 
establish.  He  had  been  independent  so  long  now 
that  it  no  more  suited  his  fancy  to  pour  out  beer 
for  other  people's  guests  than  his  own. 

Pieter  christened  the  cafe  "The  Lions'  Den" 
in  honour  of  Daniel  and  his  friends.  It  was 
fitted  with  a  back  room  having  yellow  walls 
exactly  like  the  old  one.  Every  Saturday  eve- 
ning the  clique  met  here  and  talked  of  old  times, 
whilst  Pieter  himself  waited  on  them  in  person 
just  as  before. 


HOME  AGAIN  243 

But  out  in  the  public  bar  he  gathered  round 
him  a  faithful  circle  of  customers,  who  were  never 
weary  of  hearing  of  his  marvellous  battles  with 
lions,  tigers,  and  boa-constrictors  on  the  distant 
isle — or  of  his  little  brown  Eve  with  the  timid 
eyes,  whose  faithful  love  death  alone  succeeded 
in  destroying. 

THE   END 


H 


r 


> 


A     000  123  574     6 


